


Porcelain Memories

by ThanatosBanshee



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22145992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanatosBanshee/pseuds/ThanatosBanshee
Summary: "I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other." -Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 147





	1. Innocence Lost, A Different Beginning

PROLOGUE  
Innocence Lost

Brahms Heelshire did not particularly care for the groundskeeper that lived just beyond the treeline. A mountain of a man, lanky black hair and a scruffy beard hid much of his face but his eyes… he had beady black eyes that always held anger in them. Mr. Shepard talked to himself too, low grumbling and only when he was alone. But nobody ever noticed Brahms. He was small for a seven year old, and quiet, making it easy for him to eavesdrop on the grownups that often paraded in and out of his house. Mr. Shepard called Brahms and his parents names. A lot of names. He was much more abrasive and creative with his name calling than other adults. Brahms wasn't even sure what most of it meant but the growling rage with which the man said them was enough to make him weary of being close to him. 

Mr. Shepard's wife on the other hand was very kind. Her pretty blonde hair lay in wild curls around her head and she always had a smile on her face. The few times Brahms had seen her she always took the time to fix his hair and listen to him talk about whatever book he was reading. She never asked him why he wasn't playing outside and she never tattled on him when he hid in the gardens during his parent's tea parties with the Cribbs'. If anything his little friendship with Mrs. Shepard made him hate Mr. Shepard more. Brahms wasn't stupid. He saw the bruises, he saw the welts on her legs and back when she wore sundresses. Even as a child he understood that sometimes parents didn't love each other. Mrs. Shepard was more of a friend to him than Emily was and it made him so mad that someone would hurt his friend. 

Brahms would never forget the day he met Adora Shepard. 

"Elnora why in the heavens is there a dirty little girl playing with Emily outside?" 

Looking up from the book he was reading in the kitchen while his mother and her friend Mrs. Cribbs made tea Brahms was just as baffled as Mrs. Cribbs. What did she mean there was another child outside? They had no neighbors for miles and the Cribbs needed to drive half an hour from the nearest town to even have tea. Maybe she came from the forest like a character in one of his books. His interest peaked he was just about to get down from his chair when the back door burst open and a squealing Emily ran inside, pulling a smaller girl along by the wrist. 

And dirty she was. The hem of her white dress reached just passed her knees and it was nearly brown from dirt. Barefoot her feet suffered the same fate as her dress. She had wild black hair, leaves and even a stray stick stuck in the curls that hid most of her face. Never before had Brahms met a child who wasn't a squeaky clean little clone of their parents, nor had he met any person who ran around barefoot outside. Where had she come from? 

"Adora dear what happened to your dress, you're so dirty!" His mother said. Brahms wasn't sure if he was more surprised that his mother knew the wild child or that his mother was even speaking to her at all instead of screaming about the state of her kitchen.

"Mummy mummy look at the pretty braids Adora did! She gave me princess hair!" Emily's blonde hair was pulled into a very complicated looking hairstyle instead of its usual fashion of being loose. Brahms did agree with her though, she looked like a princess with her pristine pink dress and blonde hair. Completely at odds with the little child of the forest next to her. 

"That's very pretty Emily dear, who is your little friend?" 

"My apologies Madeline, this is Adora Shepard, her father and mother work together as our groundskeepers. They've done an amazing job, have you seen my roses lately? They're thriving." 

Brahms froze upon hearing that. Frantically rechecking the visible skin of her arms and legs he was distraught to find familiar looking welts and bruises. There was a bruise around her ankle that was shaped like a very large handprint. Looking at her face he saw her watching him, though her cheeks turned pink and she looked away when he caught her staring. Adora was even prettier than her mum. Freckles scattered across her nose and big blue eyes framed by thick lashes. She looked just as much like a princess as Emily did. 

The group of people in the kitchen all turned to the window at the faint call of Adora's mum from outside. In the blink of an eye Adora was darting through the back door and racing through the gardens, leaving no trace behind to say she was ever there with them. 

~

The next time Brahms saw her was as much of a surprise as the first time. In his room he was cleaning up the aftermath of a tantrum he threw trying to get his way. Now, left alone with orders from mum to put the toys he had thrown around back onto their shelves he was embarrassed. He always got so mad when she treated him like a baby but wasn't this what babies did? Cry and throw fits. Scream when they didn't get their way. What a great way to show mum and dad that he was a good boy who could make his own decisions. 

"Brahms." Lifting his head he turned to face his mother where she stood in the door. She had her coat and hat on, telling him that they were indeed going into town to have tea with the Cribbs. He was right. Tantrums didn't work. "Come to the dining room after you've finished. Hurry up now." 

Scowling he did as he was told. Brahms might be able to admit throwing a tantrum was stupid but it didn't mean he wasn't still annoyed. He hated going over to Emily's house. She always made them play stupid tea games and she threw worse fits than Brahms. Plus Emily liked to hit, and much to his despair she was still bigger than he was and hit much harder. The only reason he and Emily even considered each other friends was because they understood they were stuck together by way of their parents, and they found each other less annoying than their parent's friend's other children. It was an arrangement that let Brahms read when he was supposed to be playing with Emily and Emily was allowed to stick her face in the flowers without Brahms telling her mother she was playing in the dirt. 

Walking into the dining room he collided with someone smaller than himself and they both fell to the floor. Big blue eyes and wild black curls was all he could see before she scrambled off of him and helped him up. Rubbing the back of his head from where it hit the ground Brahms was confused about why she was suddenly hiding behind him now until the unmistakable grumbling of Mr. Shepard reached his ears. The man was standing menacingly with his arms crossed next to the table, hidden from immediate view of the door.

"Yer parents left. I 'ont got time ta watch ye, so sit 'n read to 'er. An ye," Brahms backed up as the man stepped closer to them with his big meaty finger pointing at Adora behind him, who was gripping the back of his jacket. "No bitin'. F'I gotta tell 'is parents why 'e got teeth marks in 'is arm yer sleepin' outside." 

Adora bared her teeth like a dog and growled at Mr. Shepard. Both children watched the man stomp down the hall and out the front doors, slamming them so hard it seemed to echo through the house. After he was gone they looked at each other and Brahms was once again struck by how he'd never met another child who was so… 

Unkempt. 

Even Emily, who enjoyed playing with the flowers more than her dolls, never looked like Adora did. 

Wild. 

Her dress this time wasn't as dirty, though she was still barefoot. The leaves and twigs that had been stuck in her hair were gone. And she was staring at him. Up at him he should say. She must have been a bit younger than him because even with Brahms being small for his age, she was smaller than him. 

"What's your name?" Like her mother, she sounded undoubtedly American. It was a little odd that she didn't sound at all like her father, whose thick Scottish accent surely would be very impressionable to a child. 

"Brahms." 

~

After that Brahms and Adora were fast friends. They spent everyday together, Brahms finding he enjoyed spending time with the quiet girl from the forest. Adora never annoyed him, only ever talking when he wanted to talk which was a nice change from everyone else he knew. She never got into his space either; other people would always try to shake his hand or hug him or ruffle his hair roughly. Adora only ever touched him after she asked for his permission or he was helping her up from falling. She was awfully clumsy. 

Sometimes they would sit under one of the trees in the garden and Brahms would ask her questions. This was how he found out she just turned four last month in August, she knew her letters but couldn't read because she was dyslexic, though it took him an hour to figure out that's what she meant instead of 'despectic'. Her favorite fruit was strawberries and she hated bugs. When she asked him questions he felt as though she was genuinely curious and that she listened to him when he answered. He liked that about Adora, how good she was at listening. 

"Do you think he's a monster?" Adora asked.

"What?" Brahms was a little surprised to hear her speak up. She looked asleep with her cheek pressed against the top of his desk and her eyes closed. 

"His cree- cree- cree, uh-" Adora did this often when speaking. She would know what word she meant but forgot how to say it. Her legs swung back and forth, feet unable to touch the ground.

"Creature?" He guessed.

"No, the other word. Crea-"

"Creation?" He asked.

"Yeah. Do you think he's a monster?" Hopping off the chair Adora moved to sit next to him on his bed. 

"Do you?" Frankenstein was one of his favorite books and Brahms was afraid that maybe Adora didn't think about it the same way he did. It was easy to read what Adora was feeling through the expressions on her face but sometimes she would just stare at him and it made him feel like she saw every piece of him. 

"No. I'd be his friend." 

"Course you would. You're a little monster yourself." 

She giggled, throwing herself back onto the red blanket. "I'm not a monster." 

"Have you seen your teeth? You have fangs." He went to poke her cheek but she snapped at him with her teeth. Which was really unfortunate for her because Brahms knew her greatest weakness. 

Adora was very ticklish. 

The sudden assault of poking and prodding and wiggling to her midsection caused her to break out in shrieking giggles and pleas for him to stop mixed with threats of biting him. 

He was happy.

~ 

Months passed this way. Fall turned into winter and winter melted into the beginning of spring. It was the beginning of March, so close to his 8th birthday. Brahms was slowly helping Adora get better with her reading, the many days in winter where it was too cold to go outside had definitely helped with keeping the small girl's concentration on getting through the book he had given her. His copy of Frankenstein. She was using a picture of them hugging in front of a snow covered tree as a bookmark. They both had red cheeks and Brahms was pretty sure it was the only picture ever taken of him smiling. Adora did that to him. 

Brahms Heelshire will never forget the last day he ever saw Adora Shepard. 

It was raining, as it often did in Britain. Brahms was standing by the back door patiently waiting for Adora to come running through the garden to his house. Mum had long since given up trying to get her to wear shoes and instead taken up leaving towels by the back door so that at least the little girl's feet were clean if she was to be running around their house. 

Mind wandering he didn't notice when a small shape ran up to the door and smacked the glass, causing him to jump. Opening the door he was immediately met by the sopping wet Adora throwing her arms around his waist and crying into his shirt. He was stunned. He didn't know what to do. In all the time they had known each other Brahms had never seen Adora cry. Even when she fell out of the tree last October she bounced right back up with a giggle and an 'ow'. Setting his arms around her shoulders he hugged her back. 

Something Adora was always adamant about was asking if she could touch him before she did. No matter what it was, a hug, a pat on the back, fixing his hair. She always asked. She said her mum taught her that it was important to respect other people's bodies, you have to ask and it's okay if they say no. So for her to be squeezing him like this without any words exchanged showed Brahms just how wrong something was. 

"Little Monster?" He patted her hair and she looked up at him, her big blue eyes wet with tears. Brahms breath hitched when he saw the streak of blood smeared on the corner of her mouth. It had been a long time since Brahms had seen evidence of her father's violence on her. Being up at the manor with Brahms kept her out of Mr. Shepard's way and away from harm. 

Both children froze at the sound of her father bellowing her name through the rain. Adora quickly turned around and slammed the door shut, standing on the tips of her toes to reach the lock. 

"Brahms where's your momma?" 

The police came after that. Mr. Shepard had beat his wife to death, and when he tried to turn on Adora the little girl had bit him on the arm hard enough to draw blood and make him drop her before she ran to the Heelshire's. His mother tried to argue that Adora was safe with them while the police were arresting her father but they were insistent she needed to go to the station where they would be contacting her family. The last time he ever saw Adora Shepard was as a large policeman carried her away. She was crying again as she waved at him, his copy of Frankenstein clutched to her chest. Brahms was crying too, his mother holding him back from chasing after the police car that was taking his best friend away from him. Screaming he tried so hard to get away from her, pounding his little fists against his mother's arms and kicking out when she lifted him back into the house. Eventually the fight left him and his mum just held him as he sobbed against her chest. 

Fifteen days until March 26th, his 8th birthday. 

CHAPTER ONE  
A Different Beginning

There was something haunting about the way the wind blows through the trees as the weather weeps. It felt like the world was talking to her, the way the rain would mute everything while the leaves whispered their secrets quietly. Growing up in Montana, Adora Rose Deveaux was no stranger to trees but the thing she missed the most about Britain was the rain. Craning her neck up to look at huge house she felt her stomach twinge with anxiety. 

It had been twenty years since she saw the Heelshires. Did they even remember her? She'd like to pretend that her resume was what got her the job but from what she remembered of Mrs. Heelshire nothing got past her. Adora spent a lot of time as she was growing up imagining what Brahms would be like. And now considering this job was a nanny job he must have children of his own. Was he still incredibly smart and shy like he had been as a child? What was the name of the little girl they often played with? Emma? Ella? Emily? Maybe she and Brahms had gotten close over the years. 

Looking up at the castle like estate Adora was almost positive it was bigger than she remembered. The tiny two bedroom apartment she grew up in suddenly made her feel very very small. Adora tried to imagine growing up here with her six adoptive siblings instead and she laughed to herself in disbelief. No more smacking Maria awake in the middle of the night to get her to stop snoring that's for sure. But for one little boy to be growing up here? Alone? No messy birthdays or fighting over toys or trying to find out who stole your eyeliner? It was hard to imagine no 'are those my jeans' when one of them decided to try skinny jeans, or the wrestling that would happen when the doorbell rang and everyone wanted to be the one to scare off the unfortunate date. Katelyn was still pissed at their oldest brother Sam for answering the door in his underwear, beer in hand. The guy was a douche though. Nobody blamed Sam. Adora knew Brahms preferred his own company to that of others but looking back at her memories of him now that she was an adult she wondered if he did feel lonely. It never really occurred to her before that he didn't know what siblings were like. 

Most of what she remembered of being an only child before being shipped off to live with her aunt in Montana was playing with Brahms. The good parts she remembered anyways. There were always those flashes of her parents that never quite left her nightmares. 

The cab driver gave her the side eye when she started digging around in her purse. When she pulled out her wallet he looked almost relieved. "No need for that miss, the Heelshire's took care of it already. Your luggage is inside. Good day." And then he was in his car and she was staring at his break lights as he drove down the long driveway. Rude. 

With an ominous creak Adora opened the front door. Her large pink luggage set sat off the side of the door, her black duffle bag of books next to it. Standing next to her stuff Adora was amazed already by the house and she'd just stepped into the foyer. It looked exactly as she remembered it. The hallway leading into the house was large and unbelievably clean. Walls decorated with portraits and the occasional taxidermied animal head that always kind of freaked her out as a kid, she remembered sitting in front of the fireplace in the hall with Brahms after a particularly brutal snowball fight. 

"Hello? Mrs. Heelshire?" Adora called out. She went to step into the house but paused, looking at her slightly wet shoes and the clean floor. Should she take her shoes off? Shoes off at the door was a common rule in her house. Looking around she didn't see a shoe rack or any other pairs by the door. Better safe than sorry. Pulling off the black velvet wedge heels she sat them close to her things and started forward. "Mr. Heelshire? Helllllooooo?" The house was silent. Peering up the stairs she let out a tiny 'whoa' at how high they went up. This house is fucking huge, was it always this big? Weren't things from your past supposed to look smaller than the memory?

A loud thump from upstairs caused Adora to jump. "Hello? Is anyone up there?" Wiping her sweaty palms against the soft material of her dress she clutched the fabric as she made her way up the stairs. Every horror movie she had seen where the dumb girl goes to investigate the strange noise while she's alone flashed through her head. 

"Oh God I'm gonna fucking die in this house aren't I." She mumbled to herself. By the time she got to a landing most of the way up the stairs Adora was trying not to pant. There was a large painting of the family hanging there that she studied while catching her breath. She didn't recognize the picture, though from how they all looked it must have been painted from a picture taken not long after she left. Grinning at how adorable Brahms' chubby cheeks looked Adora felt like his smile seemed a little… off. It wasn't quite the same smile as the one he had in her picture of them as children.

Continuing up to the top of the stairs Adora found a slightly open door. Pushing it open fully she went ahead and guessed it was Brahms' children's room, though all the toys and even the cover on the small twin bed was the same as when he was a child. It was like walking into one of her memories. Seeing his old violin on the desk Adora was going to walk over to it when a floorboard in the hallway creaked. Going to investigate she saw a brief flash of a green sleeve disappear around the corner. There was definitely someone up here. 

About to follow whoever it was Adora called out again. "Hello?" 

"Hi there." Letting out a yelp she whirled around, clutching her dress over her heart with trembling hands. A fairly attractive man stood there, his hands up in a non-threatening manner. "Believe it or not I was actually trying not to scare you." 

"I'm so sorry, I thought someone was up here." She laughed at herself. 

"You're… here for the nanny position?" He gave her a look of disbelief and she felt herself flush. 

"I may not look like Mary Poppins but I'm a great babysitter. You don't look like either Mr. Heelshire." 

"I'm, I'm sorry no I'm Malcolm." He moved forward and held out his hand for a handshake. "I'm the grocery boy. Man. Grocery man. I own the shop actually. I'll stop talking now. Would you like to help with the groceries?" Adora nodded, biting her lip to avoid laughing at his rambling. Giving one last look behind her she followed Malcolm back down the stairs. 

In the kitchen they made awkward small talk. Mostly Malcolm asking where she was from and things like that but she noticed how he'd shoot her a confused glance when she wasn't looking. 

"So what uh. What did you do before this?" He tried to be nonchalant about the question but Adora grinned. Malcolm might be cute but subtle he was not. 

"Want my resume, grocery boy?" She teased. Having the courtesy to sheepishly turn his attention back to the groceries as he stammered out an excuse she decided to put him out of his misery. "I was a volunteer in the children's ward of the hospital in our town, but I didn't really have a job. I stayed home to look after my younger siblings. The twins are in their final year of high school and Elijah has COPD. And now I'm here." 

"Oh." He said, taking a box she was trying to put on a high shelf and doing it for her.

"What? I have to look 80 to be a nanny?" One hand on her hip she leaned against the counter and looked up at him.

"I don't think I've ever met a nanny who dresses like she's going to a funeral or has sparkly bits through her lip." His words might have been mean if he wasn't wearing a teasing smile that made her laugh. 

"Know many nannies Malcolm?" 

The sound of high heels coming towards them quieted the pair. The woman from the large painting on the stairs stepped into the kitchen, slightly older now but no less regal than Adora remembered. Her short grey hair perfectly curled and her clothing fitted and pressed. The neat looking plaid skirt ended modestly just below her knees and Adora felt very inappropriately dressed for the 'welcome home' moment so to speak with her above the knee billowy black lace dress. Adora had always been very proud of who she was and the style she liked but Mrs. Heelshire made her feel like an ant. She was actually extraordinarily intimidating and the way she was looking at Adora was with plain disapproval. Oh shit.

"Mrs. Heelshire, it is so nice to see you again." 

"Hm. Where are your shoes?" 

~

"God I bet you nearly pissed yourself." 

"You're Goddamn right I nearly did. And after my whole speech on the way up the stairs about how every child deserves a friend who understands them and how I grew up making sure to be as friendly as I could to everyone. I'm sure she saw right through my poker face, Sam, she could smell my fear." Her older brother laughed long and loudly on the other end and Adora huffed in annoyance. "Some brother you are." 

Adora propped her elbows on top of the dresser where the phone in her room sat. Nearly bending over the piece of furniture with her hips cocked to one side she pushed her glasses up her nose. "That's not even the worst part. I can deal with the doll. He's not that creepy. Guess what one of my every day jobs is?" 

"Walking around in the dark?" He guessed. She could hear some of her other siblings shushing each other in the background. Picking up the phone she backed up to see how far the cord connecting it to the wall would go and was pleased that she could sit on the bed with the phone. 

"Worse. Cleaning out these giant rats from some fancy traps." More boisterous laughter from her brother and she heard someone wrestle the phone away from him. 

"So what about your long lost childhood love, where's he?" Said Maria, her older sister.

"The doll is Brahms. It looks so much like he did as a kid."

"Sooo… where is he?" 

"I dunno Ria. I'm afraid to ask. When Mrs. Heelshire finally remembered me the look on her face was… heartbreaking, I'm. I don't think he's… here. Anymore."

"Oh… Dora… I'm so sorry." There were some hushed whispers on the other end and the sound of someone being smacked. Adora flopped backwards into the pillows. More hot potato with the phone and she heard Elijah's voice. 

"How long are you going to be gone? You're not really leaving me with these animals are you?" There was a chorus of boos and offended scoffs. Adora felt tears start to prickle her eyes at how forlorn her younger brother sounded. Only nine and a half months separated the two and she was probably closer to Eli than the twins, Katelyn and Evan, were to each other. While everyone else had school or work or other responsibilities Adora would always drop everything to be with Eli during his often lengthy stays in the hospital. 

"I don't know Eli. But with the money I'm sending you guys soon you can buy that new backpack for your oxygen tank. The one with the fancy padded straps?" 

"Evan said if you're bribing us now he'd like some new paint brushes." 

Laughing through the couple of tears that fell she replied, "I'm sure he would. I'm going to head to bed now okay? Let everyone know that I love them." 

A racket of 'I love you's and someone making kissy sounds- probably provided by Peter, second oldest, ended the call. 

***

Brahms was sure from the moment she stepped through the door he was seeing a ghost. He recognized her immediately, though she was a young woman now and not the tiny little girl from twenty years ago. Twenty years and she was still walking around without shoes; her wild black curls still untamed but much longer, laying against her well endowed chest. His little monster had returned. 

He couldn't stop himself from taking her shoes. It was just too amusing how little she still was, the three extra inches wouldn't matter. Brahms enjoyed listening to her talk. As a child, her voice had that high pitch and she often spoke in awkward sentences stuttered around words she couldn't remember how to pronounce. Now though Adora sounded like what honey tasted of. Her voice was sweet and smooth, a lower pitch it was sultry in such a hypnotic way Brahms would be content to listen to her forever. When she spoke to mum of being his friend his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. Would she still be his friend now that he was this monster? All he wanted was to earn her smile and make her laugh like Malcolm did. Resentment boiled in his chest as he watched the other man make her laugh so easily. She was his friend, not Malcolm's. He recognized he was acting like a petulant little brat jealous over a toy but he had always felt this way with Adora. Even with Emi- 

Forcing himself to think about anything other than that train of thought he shook his head and continued to watch her through the walls. 

Later that night he listened to her phone conversation. The first low tones of a man startled him but he was pleased that the man on the line wasn't a lover, but one of apparently many brothers. Earlier in the day when explaining her name change to his mother she had mentioned her aunt died shortly after Adora went to live with her and she was adopted by a friend of her aunt, some woman who already had four children and had two more after accepting Adora into her family but left them all shortly after the last two were born. Brahms hated how all of the adults who were supposed to be taking care of her had ended up leaving in one way or another. He was just glad to hear the obvious affection in her voice when she talked about her siblings. Even with all the heartbreak she had been though she found her own family who loved her.

In his own room listening to their conversation Brahms learned so much about who Adora was now. Afraid of dolls, rats, the dark. Imagining why in the world she would be afraid of something as silly as dolls he laughed quietly at her brother's teasing. He hated rats too and Brahms could protect her against the dark. Living in the black depths of the house he had learned a long time ago he had nothing to fear from the shadows, from the night. Adora was a timid little thing, her family was worried about her being on her own. But Adora wouldn't be alone. Brahms had never stopped being her friend, and he would take good care of his little monster. She obviously cared very much for her family, and they for her if the clamoring for her attention over the phone was an indication. Her laugh was probably one of his favorite sounds, it reminded him so much of when they were young and he could tickle her into laughing fits or how she would pull faces at him behind his parents back to get him to laugh. 

After her call ended he slipped to her bedroom and watched her sleep. A soft glow hovered near an outlet by the door. Little Dora had a nightlight. And a teddy bear slept next to her on the bed. Brahms had never felt jealous of a stuffed animal before but he envied to feel her hug him like that. He thought it kind of funny, even he wasn't afraid of the dark. Though he wouldn't deny he'd like to use her as a teddy bear. Content with the knowledge that she slept soundly he traveled through the walls back to his room. 

Brahms prayed that he would dream of her.


	2. So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora gets a scare, Brahms finds something new to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much cursing and a mention of boobs because Brahms is a bloody pervert.

Shutting the door after the Heelshire's cab vanished down the driveway Adora skipped down the hallway to the kitchen with Brahms the doll on her hip. If he was going to be her only buddy for the next… actually now that she thought of it the Heelshire's didn't really say when they were coming back. Okay. If he was going to be her only buddy for the next unforeseeable future she might as well get used to him. 

"I dunno about you little man but getting up early sucks." She said. Setting him down in one of the chairs she washed a couple apples and hunted around for a knife to cut them with. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket to mask the silence of the big house she searched through her music for something Brahms might like. "I know this isn't like what you're used to, but maybe we can do a little 50/50 okay? Sometimes your music, sometimes my music. Adora. What are you doing, you're compromising with a doll." 

Good Enough by Evanescence started and she turned it up loud, as per the rules, and got back to work making breakfast. Singing loudly while she made scrambled eggs, cutting tomatoes and grating cheese she kept sneaking glances at the doll. It probably said a lot about her mental state that she actually expected it to move. It wasn't really her fault though, there's like a hundred movies about haunted dolls. 

Placing a plate of food in front of little buddy and sitting next to him she got right back up to get them both water. Adora briefly wondered if she was nuts for following the rules or just paranoid that the doll was actually haunted and would murder her if she didn't. Would the vengeful ghost of her childhood friend murder her? Did it matter?

Yeah. She was going nuts. 

They finished breakfast and she decided to clean up after a back and forth debate on whether to do the dishes now or later. Now won so she had time to cry after she had to touch whatever unfortunate nightmare was stuck in the traps. She shivered just thinking about it. 

"An hour of physical exercise huh? Like a walk or are we supposed to run up and down the stairs like we could when we were kids? Are you still technically a kid?" Deciding on a walk she left him at the table to run upstairs and grab their coats. Even if she was terrified of dolls she thought it was kinda cute that Brahms had his own little wardrobe. Well… it was cute until she thought about the fact that these very well could be Brahms' actual clothing and she still wasn't aware of the fate of her friend. Then it was extraordinarily depressing. 

Pulling his hood up over his hair she zipped up her leather jacket and picked him up. "At least it's not raining. Yet." 

The story book aesthetic of the Heelshire estate didn't stop at the house. The back gardens were beautiful, even in the misty grey weather. Stone walkways wove through the hedges and assorted greenery. Statues and stone benches decorated the space, not too cluttered and not too empty. It was peaceful. The farther down the path they walked the hedges and plants gave way to a lush green lawn sporting the occasional tree, and surrounding the entire estate was the thick forest that really made it seem like a castle hidden away from prying eyes. 

Under a large tree near the back of the grounds sat a grave. Adora felt a muted sense of dread as they approached. Like that feeling just before you realize there's actually one more stair down the steps and you start to fall. 

Brahms   
1983-1991   
...he shall not perish but have everlasting life. 

"Oh. Dude." She breathed. Hugging the doll in her arms just a little bit tighter Adora felt bad for ever thinking he was creepy. Just thinking about how much pain they must have been in to lose a child that they needed to make it seem like he was still here made Adora's eyes prick with tears. He was only eight. What had happened? Maybe she should ask Malcolm when he came for his delivery next week. But at the same time, all the terrible ways an eight year old could die flashed through her head and she thought maybe not. Was he scared when it happened? God she hoped it wasn't something terribly painful. Eight year olds were supposed to be running around causing mischief, coloring and laughing. She was too soft for shit like this. For poor dead babies and heartbroken parents. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this, coming back here. She was supposed to reunite with her best friend and meet his pretty wife and be a good aunt and nanny to his kids. She was supposed to be able to give him a hug and give him back his Frankenstein novel she had kept safe all these years. They were supposed to be friends again. 

Instead she was standing in front of his grave, a grave saying he didn't live past eight years old, holding the evidence of his parent's grief. Her heart felt like it was encased in ice. Rubbing her nose as she sniffled and tried her hardest not to cry Adora kind of wanted to punch herself for making jokes about the doll being haunted during breakfast. 

"I don't care if you're haunted or not Brahms, I'll always be your friend." Turning to go back to the house her gaze was drawn to a high window. She could have swore… someone was standing there a moment ago.

~

Chores hour was spent sneezing as they went around dusting some of the many paintings decorating the house. Play hour she sat Brahms in his room and put a couple toys in front of him while she went across the hall and finished unpacking. Turkey sandwiches for lunch. She was also going to eat the remaining apples she had put in the fridge this morning but when she went to look for them, they weren't there. 

Picking the doll up and holding him on her hip was definitely the easiest way to walk around with him. Taking him with her all the way up to her bedroom she sat him on her bed before she plopped onto the floor, sitting criss cross and opening her duffle bag to look for the book she wanted to read to her pretend best friend. Setting the book down by Brahms she started unbuttoning the nice black blouse she was wearing. The house was cold enough to wear a sweater and she was sure Brahms wasn't going to tell on her for not being presentable. Halfway through her buttons she looked at the doll and wondered if she should turn him around while she changed. Was it weird to change in front of a doll she was hanging out with or was it weird to think of the doll as her childhood friend? 

Why is this the dumbest question she's ever asked herself?

Now comfortably warm in a thick, oversized off the shoulder sweater she picked up the doll and the book and made her way downstairs to the study where Mrs. Heelshire had Brahms do his schoolwork. Adora kicked off her high tops near the door too, wearing shoes inside made her feel weird. 

Taking a peek at the textbooks set aside for the doll Adora let out a whistle. College level mathematics, geography and culture, several books in French. Were these the same books Brahms used when he was alive? She knew he was smart but damn. Maybe she should ask Sam to send her that box of mixed text books from the eldest three Deveaux kids going to college. "I thought for our reading today we could have some fun. I loved this series when I was a kid, I hope you like it too. It's not exactly Frankenstein level storytelling but it's still good." 

An hour of reading the first Harry Potter later Adora put on a random record for Brahms and ran upstairs to grab her panda slippers. Walking to the closet where she left them that morning she paused walking passed her bed. Where was Charlie, her pink teddy bear? She left him sitting up against her pillows this morning. Was he there when she came up earlier? Adora tried to remember but she wasn't sure. Getting on her knees she looked under the bed and was disappointed he wasn't there. What the fuck? 

"Charlie? Where'd you go?" She said in a sing song voice. Checking behind her pillows and under the blanket for the bear she frowned. It's not like he just walked away. Opening the door to the closet she looked on the floor and stood on her tippy toes to look up on the high shelf. Her shoes went missing yesterday and now Charlie was gone. What the fuck was going on? 

By the time she got back to the study where Brahms was the record had stopped. Apologizing to him and then chastising herself for once again talking to the doll she changed it and patted his head as she sat back down. Adora loved the sound of string instruments. The only thing she ever really felt good at was music. Cello, bass, violin, piano. Growing up she played cello for three years in middle school and all four years of high school, plus an extra orchestra assistant credit her junior and senior year where she learned the other instruments. She never really sat down and listened to classical music like this but she didn't mind. Slumping down in the chair she threw one of her legs over the arm of the chair and curled the other one up on the seat of the chair. The slightly padded arm chair didn't look comfy but it actually was. A little too comfy maybe. Between the remaining jet lag and how many damn stairs she had to climb already today Adora didn't even realize she fell asleep.

~

A door slamming somewhere close by jolted Adora from her nap. Bleary eyed she looked around the darkening room, getting to her feet she mussed up her hair as she made her way to the lightswitch with a yawn. The wind was howling outside like it was purposely trying to freak her out. 

"Sorry Brahms I guess I was slee-" 

Brahms was not in his chair. 

"What the fuck." 

Adora's entire body froze, her heart pounding she gripped the neck of her sweater in fear. Dolls don't just fucking move on their own. Shit like this didn't just happen. What woke her up? Did she really hear a door slam or was that part of her dream? Walking stiffly to the door she peeked out into the dark hall and saw that the light in the dining room was on. Staying close to the wall she tiptoed to the door and peeked in. 

Of fucking course he was sitting at the table. 

"Brahms?" Adora whispered. She approached the doll warily, wondering if this was how she died. In a big empty house alone with a haunted doll. The sound of creaking out in the hallway made her jump. If she didn't die from a ghost she was going to have a heart attack. 

Turning her attention back to the doll she saw the table in front of him was set for dinner, two sets of empty plates and glasses and forks. 

"Okay. Okay. The haunted doll wants dinner. I can do that. This is fine. Not gonna die. Nope." Gently picking up Brahms from the table she carried him into the kitchen and sat him in one of the chairs. The clock above the sink said half past six, and Adora was annoyed at the weather for letting it be so dark already. 

Getting things ready to make one of her favorite dishes, chicken alfredo, it was nice to do something as familiar as cooking. Being at home with Eli all the time meant she had the opportunity to do all the grocery shopping and cooking to keep everyone fed. Their dad took off after Eli was born and before Adora was adopted which meant the twins were technically half siblings but it never mattered to them. Their mom left when Evan and Katy were only 3, and Sam had to move back home to take care of all of them. At ten years old Adora did her best to help him. She grew up fast so nobody else had to. And she didn't mind. Adora loved her siblings even if she was technically adopted, she was always happy to watch the twins so that Peter could go to a boxing match or Marie could have fun finishing high school and starting college. It was always the Deveauxs verses the world. They stuck together. 

And she would never forgive the one who made her feel like she had to run from home to feel safe. 

Slicing up the chicken and laying it on the bed of alfredo noodles Adora picked up Brahms and set him on her hip before grabbing his plate. She probably put more on his plate than necessary but honestly it wasn't like the doll could eat anyways, haunted or not. Setting him back in his spot at the dining room table she went back to the kitchen for her plate and the water pitcher. Pouring their water she sat down and picked up her fork, only to drop it in shock. 

Brahms' plate was gone. 

"Oh come on dude what the fuck even." 

After she got him a new plate dinner was a silent affair. So she started talking. Maybe if she acted like the doll hadn't just pulled off a magic trick she wouldn't wake up to it standing over her with a knife in the middle of the night. Adora told the doll about her family, about how she learned to cook because Eli loved watching the cooking channel and how they'd cook together. Talking about how Sam was a God awful cook and how it's a good thing he's a firefighter because he was a hazard in the kitchen. And the time she came home from the hospital with Eli to find the kitchen absolutely covered in tomato sauce from Evan and Peter making spaghetti. 

It was kind of sad that he didn't talk back. 

***

Sitting on the other side of the wall Brahms listened to Adora talk. Eating the meal she prepared for him he knew if mum was still here he would be scolded something fierce for the way he acted today. The way Adora reacted was just too cute though, he loved it. The way everything she thought showed on her face was mesmerizing. Brahms could still read her like a book and quickly found she was his favorite novel. Playing with her was just too fun.

This morning when she had decided on a walk Brahms watched her from her window. He saw her draw closer and closer to his grave, he felt the anxiety claw it's way up his throat to choke him as Adora stood with the doll in front of the headstone. The pity people expressed when learning of his death usually made him angry. He hated that they felt sorry for his parents. Everyone forgot about his pain when faced with the doll and his parents. Nobody ever thought of how he must have felt when he died. But Brahms would remember the tears Adora shed as she walked back to the house. He would remember the way her lips formed his name in her whispered apology. Brahms should have known Adora would feel for him, she always thought of him over other people. Even as children they had clicked instantly, understanding each other better than anyone else. He was the first person she went to if she was given a treat or wanted to tell him of a flower she found in the forest, and in return Adora was the first and only person he talked to about anything. She didn't know he was still there with her but she felt him, he was sure of it. 

Brahms stole her teddy bear just to see what she would do. Her plump bottom lip stuck out in an adorable pout. She made the same face when she discovered her shoes were missing that first day. If Adora did that everytime something of hers went missing he was going to have to continue to sneak her things away. And the way she cursed when she got scared made him laugh every single time. When mum or dad cursed he was usually about to regret whatever he did, but with Adora it was like watching a bunny get mad. 

Even when she fell asleep during study hours he found he didn't mind, instead taking the opportunity to play with her hair that had draped so temptingly over the arm of the chair. Her curls were so soft. Brahms' chest ached as he day dreamed about her falling asleep against his chest, leaving him free to plunge his hands into her wild hair and smooth it away from her face as she slept. How he wished to be close to her, to be able to feel her soft skin against him. 

It was night time now and he watched as she finished reading to the doll and when she gave the doll a kiss goodnight he scowled a bit. If he wasn't such a grotesque monster would Adora kiss him goodnight instead? He was reminded of a conversation they had as children, when he was reading Frankenstein to her and she said she would be friends with Frankenstein's monster. Brahms wondered if his scars and his sins made him more or less of a monster than the man who was reanimated from a bunch of corpses. 

Brahms followed her in confusion when she didn't go to her room like he thought she would. Trailing after her through the walls like a ghost, Adora went down the stairs to the back door. She gathered the thick garbage sack and some rubber gloves, her nose scrunching up she left through the back door. Brahms was worried she was going to leave him for a moment before realizing she was cleaning the traps. He admired her dedication to the rules, knowing about her fear of rats yet she still checked every single box. 

Half an hour later she came back inside, tears streaming down her face she rushed to the sink. His eyes widened as she turned the hot water on fully and plunged her hands underneath. Gripping the wood in front of him when steam started to rise from the sink Brahms debated on rushing out and stopping her. She was going to hurt herself. 

Just as suddenly as she began she stopped. Making her way out of the kitchen to the stairs Brahms heard her cursing quietly about having to touch the rats and he laughed to himself. Truly Adora was the most amusing person he'd met. Maybe though to avoid her constantly scalding her skin he could do the traps for her. He wanted her to stay with him, he would do anything to help her. 

So lost in thought was he as he continued to shadow Adora he wasn't paying attention to her until they entered her room and she pulled her sweater over her head. Brahms nearly choked on his own tongue at the sight of her breasts slightly spilling over the lace of her bra. Longing flared to life in his gut and what he could only describe as lust tightened in his groin. There were only a few books he had read that mentioned how men sometimes feel about women but he had never felt it before. Not this hot, pulsing ache. Lord, he was the worst. He considered looking away but found his self control to be severely lacking. 

Adora walked away to the bathroom and Brahms slipped out of the wall. Maybe she had some books he could use as distraction. With the size of her large duffle bag he could probably take quite a few and return them before she even suspected a thing. He skipped the ones she was reading to him during study time, he loved how she read to him and he didn't want to spoil the story. The other books in the bag though… 

What on earth kind of literature was this? 

Many of her books had pictures of men and women in various states of undress. Brahms felt his cheeks heat up. His timid little Adora couldn't possibly be some sort of pornography addict. Picking one of the books up he flipped it over and read the summary, confused about how that paragraph was connected to the front cover. Taking the five most used looking books he hurried back into the wall and to his own bedroom. Maybe if he read them he would understand why the covers were so vulgar. How could Adora spend money on something that looked so sinful? Everytime he turned around his little monster was managing to surprise him. It was thrilling. 

Setting his mask on a table in his room he curled up on his bed. Tucking Charlie against his cheek he put his pile of pilfered novels on the floor and grabbed one at random. As odd as this turn of events was Brahms was excited to learn another thing about his Dora. Everything she did intrigued him and delighted him. His world of grey was filling with the colors she was surrounded by and he couldn't bare the thought of going back to his life before her. Brahms wanted her with him always. 

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear.


	3. An Unimaginable Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brahms is a bit naughty this chapter, so.

Adora wasn't sure if she was going bat shit crazy or if she just had the worst memory. A week had passed since the doll had moved rooms by itself and nothing else of note had happened. Several times she thought that maybe he might have moved positions but then again she wasn't quite sure if it was just her imagination or not. And other than losing one of the dresses she wasn't even sure if she brought with her to England nothing else went missing. Of hers that is. Food often went missing from the fridge and if she left Brahms alone with his plate during dinner it would disappear. The dishes always turned up within a day, washed and put back into their places. 

What was really driving her crazy was the feeling she would get every once in a while. It was like a little zap, a shock of butterflies floating around her stomach. It wasn't a bad feeling. Adora didn't dread it. But it came and went with no rhyme or reason. Sometimes when she was reading aloud to Brahms the doll she would get the goosebumps and try as she might to discern the cause it was lost on her. Or she would be walking down the hallway and she'd shiver, the butterflies flitting around inside her. If she didn't know better she would think she had some sort of parasite living inside her. The goosebumps happened whenever there was an odd creak that sounded like footsteps or when the wind sounded weirdly similar to a sigh. 

And once she swore when she was telling a funny story about Sam and Peter and the cake disaster of Marie's 20th birthday party she heard a man laughing. It took awhile for the butterflies to settle after that. 

What kind of moron stays in an obviously haunted house and gets butterflies instead of the heebie jeebies. This kind apparently.

On a more pleasant note every day when she left the house to check the traps Adora was quite pleased to find they were all empty. It was no great loss to her if all the rats in the English countryside suddenly decided to stay far, far away from the house. It was great. And since she had a free almost full hour before dinner she gave Brahms more play time, continuing their wizarding adventure while the doll sat on the floor with some of his toys. 

It was easy to fall into a routine in the Heelshire manor. Though she missed her siblings she didn't miss the dirty smelling city they lived in or the noise of cars during the day and night. It was beautiful out here, and while she wished she had someone to talk to that wasn't a maybe haunted doll that didn't talk back it wasn't too terrible being alone. Adora often pondered what kind of boy the real Brahms would have been like growing up. Would he ever grow out of his shyness? What would he look like now? She wondered if they would have been friends as adults. What kind of person would Brahms be if he had grown up under the strict schedule his parents had for the doll? For all she knew growing up could have turned him into a prick. But her gut told her he would have been kind. 

Adora was both looking forward and dreading Malcolm's visit today. Being alone for a week didn't really bother her but Malcolm seemed like a good guy she wouldn't mind being friends with. However, she was afraid of learning the truth of what happened to Brahms. She didn't want to have nightmares of her best friend dying. It was hard enough sleeping after going to check the mail her third day here and noticing that one of the windows in the front of the house was boarded up, black sleeping up around the edges from what she guessed was a fire. Her imagination broke her heart and she wanted Malcolm to tell her that Brahms had been sick and passed away in his sleep. Nearly anything else would ease the nightmares of him screaming alone, burning to death. 

As she was reading to Brahms around 1:20 in the afternoon the sound of a car coming up the drive made her grin. Rushing to put the book down she nearly sprinted from the room. Stopping and going back to grab the doll she ran to the kitchen and skid to a halt, sliding in her socks across the kitchen floor. Setting Brahms in his usual chair where he sat while she cooked she flung open the door to reveal a very surprised Malcolm. 

"Malcolm!" Adora said with a grin. The dress she was wearing swayed around her thighs in the cold breeze coming from the open door.

"Hello there. I don't think anyone has ever been this excited to see me before. Except for maybe my nan." Malcolm was wearing an outfit similar to when they first met, jeans and a navy blue coat over a gray blue sweater. He looked very nice in blue. Made her want to hug him. Although after spending a week alone she probably would have hugged the taxi driver. 

"Still charming I see." 

"Still cheeky I see. Brahms hasn't driven you to flee to the hills yet?" A cocky smile was on his face as he placed the wooden crate of groceries on the table. 

"Ha ha, very funny. You could have warned me yanno." She said, leaning against the table to help him put away the groceries. 

"And ruin the surprise?" 

"That surprise nearly made me piss myself." He laughed out loud at that, sending her a grin that made her blush. That was probably not something to share with other people. 

"In any case, I'm glad you're still here." 

"And why's that?" He motioned for her to follow him so she shoved her feet into the shoes she had left by the back door and walked with him to his car. 

"There's this American girl in town, studying abroad. I want your advice on how to fix what I did so I can ask her out." Opening the back of his car he handed her a small bag of apples and grabbed another wooden crate. 

"My advice as an American or as a girl?"

He opened his mouth to answer but stopped and rethought whatever he was going to say. Opening his mouth again he snapped it shut and put a hand to his forehead, making her giggle. "Mostly as a girl, but being an American girl is convenient." 

"Okay grocery boy, tell me what you did." 

***

Brahms tried to control the rage burning through his veins as he watched Adora and Malcolm. Struggling not to growl he could feel his palms sweating, pressing himself close to the peephole to try and see them as they walked outside. For the past week he had been on his best behavior, partly due to his conflicting emotions, but his best behavior none the less. After finishing what he now understood was a 'romance' novel, his entire view of his body had become skewed. The book was about a woman who fell in love with her new neighbor after he offers to fix her porch steps. The entire thing was full of new information that ignited his thirst for knowledge and shocked his now unsettled world view. Not only had he been startled when the main character's love interest greatly resembled him in stature and physique and had managed to get the woman to fall in love with him, but Brahms had also learned about making love and how that was where babies came from. He knew three languages but had never felt more dumb than in that moment. 

The very detailed love scenes were not only intensely arousing but it also made him once again long to be whole. Brahms was angry he would never get the chance to know Adora like this, he was angry that the only way he would find pleasure in her was with his own hand as he rut against the cloth doll now wearing one of her sweet smelling dresses. He was glad his parents weren't here because if he had to see them he might not be able to hold back the rage he felt that they had taken this away from him. Men like him didn't get sweet kisses. As the monster he had become he wouldn't get to feel Adora pressed against him like the men and women in the books. 

After reading that first book and realizing what he missed by not growing up in the way he should have, he shattered the mirror in his room. Brahms hadn't even felt it when he punched the monster's reflection. Didn't feel the blood dripping down his knuckles that had been sliced apart. All he could do was fall to his knees and wail in despair at his loss. 

After that he quickly finished the other four stolen books. Different stories, different plots and different characters. Brahms read about falling in love and imagined him and Adora as the leads in each different scenario. Falling in love with her in a different way many times soothed his urges to break more things. 

Watching her all day and then reading until the early morning Brahms got little sleep but he felt it was worth it. After finishing all five of them he put them back in exchange for five more. It was curious, finally learning how to be a man and act around women from books. Everything he knew about anything was self taught with books or trial and error. Another thing his parents had denied him by cutting his life short. Surely not even sins as deep as his deserved this kind of pain, knowing he would never get to be with the one he loved. Knowing he would never get to show her the monster he was now. 

At first he was ecstatic that the men in these novels were often tall and broad. Brahms was also very tall and broad. But it said they were handsome, and it never mentioned being a hairy beast. With the right half of his face, most of the skin on his right arm and much of his back destroyed in the fire that nearly killed him he would never resemble the men Adora read about. And she obviously enjoyed this type of man if she had so many of these books. But he continued to read. He continued until he had read all of the books in her bag save for the ones related to the book she read during the good Brahms' study hours. It felt...nice. To be able to get away from haunting the walls of his home. To pretend he was any of these men falling in love with Adora again and again and again. It was always her he imagined. Of all the women described in the books he was only interested in falling in love with her. 

Sometimes the books were incredibly dumb, and he found that Adora had written her agreement with that statement in her books. In some of the other books he hadn't understood why he'd find certain lines underlined until he found her first note. A simple 'what the fuck' was written next to the underlined 'hot burning rod' that was used to describe the male lead's cock. Brahms found himself laughing at the notes she left, she managed to make even the most droll of the romance novels easy to get through in his hunt to find what she thought of the books. He wished he could sit down and discuss them with her. Listen to her talk about what each note meant, especially the ones that were just letters put into random order. 'Omfg' did not give him any indication on her thoughts. 

Brahms watched her face and listened to her all day to mollify his need to be near her. For someone who was completely alone in the house save for a doll and a ghost of a man Adora talked enough for the both of them. It was a large change from how she was in their youth but he didn't mind one bit. At one point he even had to clap his hand over his mouth to stop laughing and he thought for a moment she had heard him before she continued speaking. Adora was still so startling aware of his presence sometimes he couldn't help but dream that she would call for him, the real him, even if he was nothing but a monstrous ghost. If she could be friends with a doll she feared she could be friends with him right? She was always sympathetic to monsters.

Other times he swore she knew he was there and lived to torture him. Adora's preference for short skirts and dresses made his mouth dry, especially after reading the countless scenes in her novels that they could reenact. Brahms had accidentally startled her the other day when she dropped something on the floor and she had gotten on her hands and knees to retrieve it from under her bed. The way her back arched and her bum stuck up in the air, her skirt teasing him so much by revealing what lay beneath ever so slowly as she reached. She was wearing these socks that went high up on her thighs and ended in lace. And good Lord the lace. Adora loved lace. Most of her dresses were lace or had some sort of lace trim. And her underwear… 

Brahms had leaned forward a little too far when her sheer black lace panties came into view as she was on her knees. His head lightly hit the wall, the small tink noise his mask made against the wood had caused her to sit up and look around before going to retrieve whatever it was she was looking for. He quickly retreated to his room with the imagine burned into his brain, the need to take himself in hand as he imagined her doing it on purpose just to rile him up was too strong. Release came quickly, his breathing heavy. Adora was going to be the cause of his second death he was sure.

But as mad as he was those hours after reading that first book couldn't hold a candle to his rage now. Why did she look so happy to see Malcolm? The way she had nearly forgotten the doll in the study as she literally ran to see him. Malcolm! Another man! Adora was his! He nearly slammed his head against the wall in frustration when he saw the pink dusting her cheeks from the other man laughing at something she said. Malcolm didn't even know half of how funny she was. They walked outside and Brahms had to stop himself from following them to yank Adora back to him. How dare that grocery boy take what was his from his house.

As they came back inside Adora was laughing this time and Brahms growled. He could make her laugh too. Probably. Somehow. 

"So you asked her for her gum? Have you ever talked to a woman before Malcolm?" What? What on earth were they talking about? 

"I didn't know what to do I just froze." 

"You didn't know how to talk to her so you told her you could read her gum?" Adora's back was to the wall he was in as she took apples out of a bag and put them in the basket on the counter. Brahms was glad that Malcolm remained on the other side of the table, far away from her. 

"When you put it like that I sound mental." 

"No you sound like a 13 year old talking to a pretty girl for the first time."

"She was beautiful Dora. Even her name is beautiful. Greta. Doesn't it sound wonderful." Torn between being annoyed the man gave her a nickname and confused on how he thought anyone was more beautiful than Adora, Brahms kept his eyes on them. 

"Oh boy love at first sight huh." 

"I'm crazy for her already." 

Adora made the cutest snorting sound. "Crazy enough to claim to be a gum reading psychic. Do you want coffee or tea or something?" 

Malcolm finished putting the groceries away while Adora made him tea and fixed herself coffee. Brahms never liked the bitter taste of the stuff but the amount of sugar she dumped into her drink made him curious what hers tasted like. They moved to the parlour and Brahms followed. Slightly less annoyed with Malcolm now that he was keeping a respectable distance from Adora, Brahms was pretty surprised when Adora went back to the kitchen for the good Brahms. He scowled a bit at his perfect counterpart. Why was everyone fighting him for Adora's attention today? 

Brahms didn't really pay that much attention to Adora and Malcolm talking about the man's woman issues. While it was greatly amusing that the attractive man was useless when it came to women, (not that he was really one to talk) Brahms just wanted them to be done talking so he could be alone with Adora again. Today's delivery had interrupted her reading to him and he was a little sour about it still. Maybe she would sing while she made dinner. That would make up for it. 

"Okay, I did something for you now you do something for me." Brahms peered through the wall at the pair, interested now that they were shifting topics. 

"Sounds fair." 

"When Brahms and I were on a walk out back I found his…" Adora bit her bottom lip as she trailed off. Why were they talking about him now?

"His grave." Malcolm set his cup down on the tray and leaned back in his chair, looking at his hands in his lap. 

"Yeah. What happened?" She whispered.

"There was a fire. On his eighth birthday, such a tragedy." 

"Oh my god."

"The doll showed up soon after that. They just couldn't cope I guess. I can't even imagine losing a child like that." 

"I don't really care about the doll Malcolm. What about the real Brahms? He must have been so scared." Adora had tears streaming down her face. Even crying she was beautiful. Longing filled him, he wished he could wipe her tears away. Dying had hurt but he would lie to her, tell her it was okay and he couldn't remember it. Anything to see her smile again. 

"You're a very empathetic person Miss Deveaux. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone wondering what Brahms felt. Usually they just comment on how cracked the Heelshires must be." 

"I actually uhm. When I was a kid, four or five years old I lived in that small cabin near the edge of their property." 

The way Malcolm's jaw dropped nearly made Brahms snort. 

"So you-"

"I was friends with Brahms. I actually have, hold on." Adora got up and was gone for a long minute before she came back with a book. "This was his. He gave it to me when we were little see? He wrote me a note. And there's a picture of us inside."

"For my little monster, don't eat my book." Malcolm read aloud. Brahms remembered he wrote that because it made Adora laugh. It was the first time he had ever written in a book. "This picture makes him look like a regular kid." 

"What? What do you mean a regular kid?"

Brahms knew whatever Malcolm said wouldn't be good. People very rarely said good things about him. 

"Brahms was… you have to understand that there's two types of talk in town. There's polite talk and there's pub talk." Adora motioned for him to go on. "The polite talk was that he was a nice lad and what happened was a tragedy."

"And the pub talk?"

"That he was a not so nice lad. That he was downright strange." Malcolm leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Brahms watched Adora sip her sugary drink. What would she think of him after this? Was Malcolm talking about town gossip poisoning her against him? 

"He was eight years old. Kids still eat mud at that age, I'm sure people don't know what they're talking about."

"I came out here for a delivery once. I didn't know it, but it was Brahms' birthday. Mrs. Heelshire was in here, opening presents with the doll and Mr. Heelshire? He was across the hall. Off his pickle."

"He was what?" Adora reminded him of a rabbit the way she scrunched her nose up when she was confused. 

"Drunk. Mumbling to himself how he couldn't do it anymore. I told him I could come back later but he said no, no sit and have a drink with an old man. So we get a few drinks in and I finally get the courage to ask him a question. What was Brahms, the real Brahms, like? And Mr. Heelshire gives me this heartbroken look and says one word. Odd. He said he was odd." 

Adora had stopped crying. She was wiping the wetness from her cheeks when she said something completely unexpected. "What a dick."

"Excuse me?" Brahms was glad Malcolm said it because he was sure they both were looking at her with the same totally perplexed expression. 

"That's a terrible thing to say about your kid. Even if he was weird okay? You know what I did when I was eight? I bit anyone who touched me. For no reason. Didn't matter who it was, I didn't like being touched. So I bit them. For like two years. When my brother Eli was eight he thought he was a zombie so he'd walk around with a limp groaning at people. The twins one day just started talking for each other instead of themselves. Evan would be like Katy wants more cereal and Katy had to tell us Evan fell out of the tree they were climbing to see some squirrels and broke his arm. All kids are weird. You know what I think?"

"I think you're about to tell me." Malcolm said, that smile from before on his face again. The stupid flirty one Brahms hated. 

Why was Adora so mad? Brahms knew he was a bad child. Was she mad at him for being odd? Had she just forgotten what he was like as a boy?

"I think they raised Brahms all alone in this big house with very little interaction between other kids and when he didn't fit the mold of their little prince charming they thought he was weird. But he was just a kid. Kids are weird! And next to any one of my siblings at that age Brahms wasn't weird. He was quiet, I remember that. Sometimes we could sit there in silence for hours but that was okay you know? I could barely talk but I didn't mind. And he was smart too. He taught me how to read."

"You're getting awfully worked up over a doll Adora." 

"I'm not talking about the doll smartass. I just. I wish I could have been his friend you know? After. After I had to leave. Even if he was odd, I would be happy to still have my friend." 

Malcolm looked uneasy for a moment, the smile sliding off his face replaced by indecision. Brahms had an idea of what he was about to say so he stepped on a particularly creaky floorboard and smirked in satisfaction when they both jumped. 

"What was that?" Malcolm asked. 

Adora waved away his concerns, setting her cup on the tray and picking it up. "The house is creaky, especially when it rains like it is today." Malcolm eyed the Brahms doll for a moment before he followed Adora out of the room. 

Malcolm left and Adora picked up the book she usually read after seating the other Brahms in front of his open textbooks. With a couple hours until dinner Brahms made his way through the house to his room. He would take a nap before dinner. The sound of whatever music Adora listened to while cooking would wake him up. She loved her music loud and he didn't mind. Especially when she sang. Though sometimes she would listen to music that sounded like the devil calling to them from hell. He wasn't fond of that music.

Brahms had a lot to think about. He had never heard anyone call his father a dick before, nor any other name for that matter. Or rather he hadn't heard anyone call his father names besides Adora's own father. But the intent behind both instances were far different from each other. Half of him was annoyed his Adora was so mean but really...she only said that because she was defending him. She knew nothing about him anymore but she defended him when his own father called him odd. And father would know wouldn't he? He was odd. Before and after Adora was gone his parents often forced him to play with other children but Brahms didn't like them. Their games were nothing but pretending to be exactly like their parents. It was boring. Brahms would much rather read by himself than have other children call him names. So they called him odd, they called him a freak. Everyone was always so mean to him. Ruining his books, pulling his hair, hitting him and pinching him when the adults weren't looking. Mum got angry he wouldn't smile, got angry when he wouldn't talk. Dad got angry when Brahms yelled. Dad got angry when he didn't want to wear ties or the stupid shoes that hurt his feet. 

Brahms wondered if Adora and her mother were the only people who were ever always kind to him. Even his tutor, a cranky woman who would drive out to them several times a week looked down her nose at him. And if mum and Mrs. Cribbs had been drinking wine they would talk about how being a parent was a burden. He had just accepted the fact that he was a burden, especially after the fire. He needed to be punished for what he did. Brahms knew he was unforgivable, a monster who had been punished to look as broken on the outside as he was on the inside. 

Sometimes, especially at night when the house was quiet, Brahms wondered if it was by fate's decree that Adora had come back to him. Maybe she was an angel set on this path to care for him by God, because only a creature from heaven made of kindness could possibly have the patience to deal with a monster like him. Only an angel could heal a demon with her love right? 

Laying on his bed he buried his face in Charlie's fur, trying to imagine what Adora was like after she left. Apparently she never grew out of biting people. Would her siblings have liked him? Accepted that he was as odd as the rest of them? Maybe if he had grown up with her family he would still be alive. Or rather, he knew he was alive but he wasn't… living. Adora often talked about her siblings and how loud and full of life they were. They were all so different from one another but Brahms loved how they never seemed to really be angry with each other and they worked together when their parents left. Brahms thought about Adora's older brother Sam. He was a firefighter. Surely he had seen burn scars before, probably even had some of his own. Would they care about his? Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, believing anybody else would have given him forgiveness for his sins. If his own parents couldn't love him after that who would?

Quickly thinking of anything else but the fire his mind found solace in the smell of Adora that lingered on her teddy bear still. He watched her often enough to know Charlie smelled like the lotion she put on after her showers. Brahms had snuck into her bathroom at night to smell it and her shampoo and soap and things. She liked sweet smells, her shampoo some strawberry coconut mix, her body wash was a set with her lotion, both 'Japanese cherry blossoms.' Her smell was always really strong upstairs after her showers and he wanted to sleep in his own room if only so he could be surrounded by it.

Brahms drifted off to sleep wishing he could wrap his arms around Adora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adora makes an important discovery next chapter. 
> 
> Puts cliff hanger in the notes.  
> >:3


	4. Let's Play a Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora figures out the secret hiding in the manor.

The doll was playing with her, Adora was sure of it. 

When she woke up the next day one of her least used lipsticks, (a tube of black matte stuff she didn't like because she wasn't a fan of how sticky that brand was) was standing up in the middle of the vanity table in her room. A small smiley face was drawn in the corner of the mirror, the lipstick tube drawing attention to it as if to say 'hey look what I did.' Adora left it there, sure she managed to spontaneously start sleepwalking. But several hours later when she came upstairs to grab the next book in the series she was reading there was another one in the top corner this time. Adora wasn't sure how long she sat there staring at it but eventually she walked over to the mirror and drew little hearts next to both of them. If the doll was haunted, she definitely had proof. If she was going nuts well that fucking sucked. 

The day after that she told Brahms they were taking a little break. Staying in her pajamas all day she built a pillow fort in the room with the pool table. Gathering the thick comforters and quilts from the other spare rooms she rounded up every pillow she could. Laying the thick blankets on the floor and spreading a couple of thin sheets over the arm chairs and the table it was quite comfy. Adora had the brilliant idea to look for Christmas lights to string up inside but she was too chicken to try and use the scary looking hook to open the attic. 

Brahms stayed in his pajamas too, and after Adora grabbed her tablet that had a couple of her favorite movies downloaded on it she crawled into the fort with him. Propping the tablet up on a small pillow she unplugged the headphones and explained to the doll how to work the tablet and start the movie. The Phantom of the Opera. Gerard Butler was amazing. Humming along to most of the songs with the rain pattering against the windows, she wasn't sure when she fell asleep. The nightmares that plagued her sleep during the night made sure she was tired enough to fall asleep in the middle of the day. 

When she woke up her tablet and headphones were gone. Adora moved around all the pillows and shook out all the blankets. Just poof. Gone. Brahms was still in his spot lying next to her on the floor though. 

"Okay fine." She said to him as she walked into the kitchen carrying him. "You wanna watch movies by yourself, whatever. You're gonna need the charger when it dies though, it's the white one not the black one. The white one. The black one is for my phone." 

Sure enough when she went to bed that night the charger was gone too. Little shit. Was she ever going to get her things back? 

It had been four days since Malcolm had been by with the delivery and they talked about Brahms. Adora's nightmares refused to relent and tonight was no different. The dream started off innocently enough. She was four years old again, sitting next to Brahms, the actual little boy Brahms, on his bed with both of their backs to the headboard. They were reading together. It would start to smell like smoke. Getting off of the bed she would try to open the door but it was locked and she didn't have a key. The panic would start to overwhelm her as she rattled the doorknob. When she turned back around the entire room would be hot and bright from the fire that was licking up the walls and swallowing all his toys. Brahms would whimper, he would whisper her name and the way he held her hand she swore she could really feel it. Then the fire would grab his pant leg, making her best friend scream. Pulling him away from the door and into the corner where the fire couldn't quite reach them yet she would burn her hands trying to put out his pant leg but the flames would just spread up his clothes. His screams tapered off until he was just a porcelain doll; staring at her lifelessly Adora continued to try and put him out. And since she was alone nobody could hear her screaming except for the doll, who sat quietly as the flames surrounded them. 

Waking up in a panic with her sheets tangled around her calves, her face was wet with tears. She whimpered when she noticed it was absolutely dark in the room. The wind outside sounded like it was a demon trying to get inside and the rain was pounding against the house. The storm must have knocked out the power. Swinging her legs to the side she reached for her glasses on the nightstand but didn't feel them. Did she leave them in the bathroom? A flash of lightning lit up the room and she squeaked. Adora cursed herself for being so distracted by putting her anti-frizz solution in her hair last night that she forgot her glasses in the bathroom. Not that her glasses would really help, it was really fucking dark.

Standing up she put her hands out in front of her and walked towards the door. Bumping into the wall she felt along it until she hit the door. Adora really fucking hated the dark. The hallway was cold, making her bare legs erupt in goosebumps. Now that she wasn't dreaming about fire she was shivering in the freezing house. Lightning flashed followed closely by thunder shaking the house. Darting across the hallway to Brahms' room that was lit up briefly by the lightning she crawled into bed with the doll. 

This was...not her finest moment. Adora curled up around Brahms, her eyes tightly shut. The next several hours were spent keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut, whimpering with every crack of thunder. In the earliest hours of morning when the clouds thinned out enough to let the remaining rays of the moon give her a tiny bit of light Adora finally drifted back to sleep. 

~

The doll's bed was actually pretty comfortable, and Adora was slightly embarrassed that she fits into a child's bed. She would take this information to her grave. 

As she sat up on the bed the sun streaming through the window reflected off of something on the nightstand. Squinting she leaned in and Adora's brows furrowed in confusion. What were her glasses doing in Brahms' room of all places? She was so sure she left them in the bathroom last night, there was no reason for them to be folded neatly on the doll's nightstand. 

Speaking of…

Brahms was not in his bed. 

Adora was fucking positive she put him in bed last night and he was definitely there when she came into his room during the storm. The floorboards were cold against her feet and when she dropped down onto her stomach to see if he fell beneath the bed she shivered from the cold pressing against her thighs. Maybe she should start wearing pajama pants to bed. 

Cheek against the floor Adora frowned when the doll wasn't under the bed either. She was about to get up when she heard something that made her pause. With her ear pressed into the floor like this she could hear… footsteps? Pretending she was still looking under the bed she listened intently, shifting to look behind her. There was nothing in the room but she was so sure it stopped right behind her. After a moment she heard the slight sound of someone shifting their weight. Was she nuts? Or was there really someone behind the fireplace? 

Standing up quickly she rushed to her room and tried to figure out what the fuck was happening. Not even bothering to change out of the sweatshirt she slept in or put a bra on she hopped into a pair of her black skinny jeans and left the room. The last time the doll wasnt where it should be he was in the dining room, and she took it as a quiet demand for dinner. It had to be early afternoon now, he was probably hungry. 

He. 

Why had it not sunk in before now? Was she honestly so dumb she was just okay with hanging out with a ghost? This was why people died in horror movies!

Those footsteps didn't sound like a porcelain doll's. Even with how swift and quiet they were there was no mistaking that whoever was upstairs was an adult. Adora tried to make a list of every weird noise she heard in the house, all the footsteps from a different floor or the slight creaking from somewhere unknown. All the things that moved, her things that went missing. The first day when her shoes had disappeared, Mrs. Heelshire blamed Brahms. But Brahms was a fucking doll. All the little happy faces in her mirror. The missing food. 

Someone was living here with her.

And the rules the Heelshire's left behind? Most of them were to keep her attention on the doll and not the evidence that she wasn't alone. They knew. They had to have known. Adora remembered the look in Mr. Heelshire's eyes as he showed her how to clean the traps, talking about how his son was very much alive. She thought he was just a grief stricken parent trying to cope but jesus christ what if he was trying to tell her something? 

At dinner Brahms' food always went missing. She had started just making three plates because one of them would disappear as soon as she left the room. And often whatever was put in the fridge for breakfast and lunch was gone by the next day. Haunted dolls didn't need to eat. People did. Why had she been okay with that? Even if it was a ghost, why was she so okay with spending time with her dead best friend? Was it because she just assumed she was being haunted by Brahms that she ignored the fact that paranormal things weren't fucking normal?

Adora was starting to panic as she got near the bottom of the stairs and she forced herself to take deep breaths. She needed to think this through. Okay. Okay. Who would the Heelshire's allow to live in their home unnoticed? Malcolm never said anything about family or friends, and Mrs. Heelshire said she would be all alone out here. That was a little conflicting with what Mr. Heelshire said. But the lady had to have known. The way she hugged Adora and squeezed her upper arms when they left, her stuttered apology. She so easily blamed the doll for whoever stole Adora's shoes… what if she wasn't blaming the doll?

The doll wasn't in the dining room, the study or the kitchen. Still trying to control her breathing Adora grabbed her coat off the rack next to the back door and walked out. She needed a moment to think, a moment to breathe. 

Okay. Going back over the list of 'there's someone in the house with me' Adora tried to think of something else to make her brain stop spinning. The traps. Everytime she checked them lately they were empty. Adora had thought that maybe the countryside was managing to get a hold of its pest problem but what if the person was doing it for her? The stranger. Why? Did they know she hated rats? The only time she ever said anything about the traps was to her siblings, was the person in the house listening to her? 

On one hand she was mortified that someone would listen to her phone conversations but on the other… she fucking hated rats. 

The dishes too. They were always clean and in their place when they came back. So this person the Heelshire's were hiding wasn't trying to make her life difficult. They easily could have tormented her with the dead rats they threw away, or left the dishes everywhere. They could have been cruel. It's why she had thought it was just a ghost. The ghost… god she was dumb as hell. Did she honestly think it was a ghost this whole time? Adora just thought that since it wasn't actively trying to kill her she would just leave it alone. Because it was a good ghost. Like Casper. She just assumed she was being haunted by the ghost of her dead best friend. 

Good ghost… 

There had been someone in the house this entire time and not once had they tried to hurt her. Adora tried to figure out what possible reason she had to stay. Obviously the nut cases that hired her were hiding shit from her on purpose. Why wasn't she immediately calling Malcolm to come get her? Because… 

Because… 

Damnit. Was she really more afraid of him than the grown ass person hiding in the house? 

Nearing the headstone at the back of the property Adora was going to walk passed it when she froze. Turning slowly to look at it she said the name out loud. Brahms. 

Brahms Heelshire...would be around Malcolm's age. He was dead. Died in a fire. A fire that made the Heelshire's withdraw from the town. Because their son died and they were dealing with the grief. Not because… 

Not because… 

No fucking way. It was impossible. Brahms died. They got the doll because they missed him. End of story. Subtle as she could Adora turned her head just enough to look at the house. There was a figure in one of the windows again. Watching her. It looked like a man but with how awful her eyesight was and the awkward angle she couldn't tell. 

'Our son is still very much with us.' 

Isn't that what Mr. Heelshire had said? 

Who else would they work so hard to hide? Who else would they allow to hide away in their house? Was the doll just a cover so that she would take care of the real human being that haunted the halls of the Heelshire estate? Jesus christ. This was turning into a murder mystery. What the fuck was she supposed to do now that she figured it out? Just pretend she didn't know there was a possibility that their supposedly dead son was actually living there? 

Her overwhelming panic was beginning to mix with an emotion she wasn't sure how to place. If Brahms was alive...did he not know who she was? Why wouldn't he tell her he was still there? 

Turning to go back inside Adora's steps stuttered when she noticed the person was still standing in the window upstairs. Okay. Okay. Lifting a hand she waved. What was she doing? She had no fucking idea either. The person, Brahms, was gone between one blink and the next. 

What did he do all day? How was he hiding from her? Was he the reason she always felt like she wasn't exactly alone? Oh jesus was he actually following the same steps she did every day? Was that how he had been interacting with people this whole time? Through the doll? How was he getting around without her seeing him? How was she going to find all the answers to these stupid fucking questions. 

Adora started making a new list.

'Reasons to continue being friends with Brahms.' 

Number one? He wasn't a cannibal, so at least he wasn't going to eat her. He ate the food she made. Not a cannibal. An important quality for a good best friend. 

Number two? Everyone thought he was dead. The only people who knew he was alive had just left him alone for God knows how long. Adora had at least talked to Malcolm several times over the last two weeks, plus phone calls home. The Heelshire's hadn't called once. He didn't have anyone else.

Number three? Technically she was getting paid to watch Brahms. So… 

Number four. He might be a little weird from not talking to other people for 20 years, but he had manners. Brahms did the traps. He did his own dishes. That sounded like the polite little boy she knew.

Number five. Adora Rose Deveaux might be fucking insane but her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him alone like that. 

Insane.

Absolutely. 

The list was a good enough start. Now she just had to figure out how to find him. 

~ 

An hour and a half of searching for the doll later Adora finally found it. She could barely see it through the shower curtain and was about to open the curtain and get him when she had an idea. 

This was the perfect time to try and get the real Brahms to talk to her. 

Mr. Heelshire said he was shy. Mrs. Heelshire said he was playful. Okay. She could work with that. 

In her room Adora snagged her hair bandana from the vanity. It was a large square piece of soft fabric that had come with a pirate halloween costume but she folded it and often used it for her hair. What could she say, little skull polka dots were cute. But it was perfect for what she needed. Going downstairs she stood at the junction in the hallway. Taking her glasses off and hanging them on the collar of her sweatshirt she tied the bandana behind her head, effectively blindfolding herself. 

Taking a deep breath she reminded herself that she was the moron that wanted to see if there was someone here. Adora Deveaux, resident dumbass ready for duty. 

"Okay Brahms, you're obviously better at hide and seek than I am. Why don't you come and take my hands and lead me to where your doll is okay? I can't see you, and my hands are out in front of me okay?" She said loudly. 

Several minutes passed and she felt dumb. Maybe she should have like. Dragged a chair over to sit down in or something. Just awkwardly standing in the middle of the hallway with her hands out in front of her. What the fuck was she doing? Adora refused to give up. Repeating what she said she held her position for a while longer. She knew he was here somewhere. She just had to be patient. 

With her eyes covered and nothing but the tick of the clock she couldn't really tell how long she stood there waiting but her feet were starting to get cold. A creak from behind her almost made Adora jump but she managed to catch herself. Listening intently to his footsteps she felt like they were much more cautious than when she heard him this morning. Her heart was hammering in her chest as he approached her, stopping just behind her Adora made sure to stand absolutely still so she didn't scare him. So she didn't scare him? Was she out of her fucking mind? She was about to piss herself from fear but ah yes let's be sure not to startle her surprise roommate. 

Brahms was warm. She could feel the heat of him through her sweater. He was breathing heavily and it sounded muffled, like he had something in front of his mouth and nose. Something lightly touched her curls on top of her head and he inhaled. Was he… smelling her? Okay. Maybe his manners were something they needed to touch up on. Although if he had been secretly living in this house since he was eight it wasn't really his fault nobody had told him not to be so obvious when smelling someone. 

"Hi Brahms." Adora said. He jumped at her voice and moved away from her. She panicked a bit, thinking she scared him away. "It's okay, take my hands." Brahms didn't move for several breaths. The only reason she knew he was still there was because she could hear him breathing still. Not as loudly as when he smelled her, just soft breaths against whatever was against his mouth and nose. 

Adora jumped when something touched her shoulder and she let out a giggle with her exhale. She needed to chill. It was his hand. His fingers trailed down the arm of her sweater to her hand, leaving tingles in their wake even through the soft fabric of her MSU hoodie. Brahms was in front of her now, holding both her hands. Adora lightly mirrored his hold, making sure he could pull away at any time. His hands were huge. 

They stayed like that for a while. Standing hand in hand, her blindfolded but trying to use her other senses to observe him. It was pretty easy to determine where his face was even with the blindfold. His soft breathing was way above her head, by at least a foot. Adora felt slight calluses on his hands and she wondered what caused them. She had so many questions for him but he had yet to say a word and she didn't want to scare him again. Being unable to see what he looked like was driving her nuts. She was so curious damnit. He smelled… odd. Like an attic that hasn't been open for a long time. Dust and dirt and a slight bit of sweat. Was he dirty? How did he shower without her knowing? Oh jeez had he even showered since she got here? 

Eventually Brahms pulled her a little bit and she went willingly after him. Adora took small steps so she wouldn't trip and he was patient, walking slowly. Brahms set one of her hands on the handrail to the stairs, carefully holding her other hand as they made their way upstairs. Technically she already knew where the doll was but she wasn't going to tell him that. They stopped in front of the bathroom, Brahms holding both of her hands again. Adora made no move to go, leaving it up to him what happened. It was probably unbelievably dangerous to be walking around blindfolded with a man that towered over her and could also be some sort of insane hermit. 

She's lost her Goddamn mind hasn't she. 

Brahms let go of her hands and one large palm patted her on the head. Trailing down into her hair clumsily his fingers were careful not to tug on any tangles they encountered, working through them to the end of her hair and then lifting up to pat her head again. It was kind of nice. Adora kept coming back to the thought that he had been basically alone for twenty years. When was the last time he'd touched another person? She heard him walk away but after a couple of steps she couldn't tell where he went and then it was silent in the house again. 

"Brahms?" She called out. After a couple of minutes of silence she pulled the bandana up and left it holding her curls back. Putting her glasses on she retrieved the doll and went back downstairs. 

This whole day had been fucking wild. There was a man secretly living in the house. That man was actually a large part of why she even came to England again. At this point she was just hoping it actually was Brahms Heelshire and not some crazy serial killer who liked to skin young women or something else incredibly painful like that. 

And she thought the doll was the weirdest thing that would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Adora chapter this week, next week is all Brahms. Love yall. Kissy face.


	5. Patience of a Saint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion, the beginning of something new.

Brahms was having trouble controlling his excitement. His heart beat madly like a wild bird in a cage. Wrapping his arms around his Adora doll he shoved his face into her little bear. 

He had held her hands. She knew he was there. 

The whole day he felt like he'd been walking on a cloud. His stomach felt funny and he knew from her books that was called 'butterflies in your tummy.' Adora was amazing. She was so sweet. She didn't shy away from his touch as mummy and daddy have been doing for years. Brahms loved the way her hands felt in his. Just like the rest of her, Adora had soft and small hands. Her nails were painted a glossy black and she wore a ring on her thumb. Being so close to her for the first time he was almost overwhelmed trying to drink in all of the little details he missed about her. 

Like how without her lipstick she had a tiny white scar on her lip opposite of the black rings she wore instead of the tiny jewels she had arrived with. And she still had light freckles across her nose. When she smiled up at him he thought his heart might stop. Her hands had quite a few small scars on the back that he allowed himself to run his fingers over. 

As much as he wished he could see exactly what shade of blue her eyes were after all this time Brahms was terrified of her seeing him without the blindfold. It's easy to not be afraid of the monster if you don't know what it looks like. He didn't want Adora to be afraid of him. 

After he lead her to where the doll was hiding he spent the rest of the day as usual, following her through her routine. Every once in a while Adora would tilt her head a little and say his name out loud. The fact that she was actually calling for him because she knew he was there instead of talking to the doll made him undeniably happy. Whenever she asked for him he'd tap on the wall for her, and she would repay him with a smile and a nod. As if she was checking he was still there and happy about it. 

That night his dreams were filled with longing. His daydreams of Adora had filtered into his unconsciousness. She lay on a couch downstairs with a book, barefoot as always the way she had her knees bent would have been obscene if she didn't have them pressed together. As it was her dress was sliding up her thighs in a dangerous way. It was his favorite dress of hers, the tight bust hugged her breasts and while the skirt was one of her longest resting below her knees the way it looked wasn't the reason it was his favorite though. Brahms loved the way that when she stood still she would start to sway her hips to make the skirt swish against her legs. It was just another thing about her that captivated his entire attention. 

When Adora noticed him her lips curled up in a smile and she dropped her book to open her arms for him. He went willingly, settling in the space she opened for him between her legs with his head resting on her chest. Adora laughed when he adjusted her so he could slip his arms around her as she lay beneath him. Brahms was vaguely aware of the fact that it was the bare skin of his face pressed against her soft body instead of his mask but he wasn't afraid to let her see him. Her careful fingers drifted through his hair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest calming him in a way he had never felt before. 

The dream was nothing more than that. Laying on the couch with his little monster. Such a simple fantasy yet one he craved with his entire body upon waking up and finding himself alone. 

A glance at his clock told him he still had some time before Adora would be awake. It had become part of his routine to watch her apply her makeup in the morning. She did it with such concentration and practiced ease it was like watching an artist at work. Painting her eyes with thick shadows and her lips with dark rose petals Brahms wondered where she learned to do it. He never cared to pay attention to his mum when she did her own makeup. Though he had to admit he found everything Adora did more interesting than anything else he'd ever seen. 

As he headed up to her room he hadn't even noticed how quiet it was until he peeked through the wall to find she wasn't there. Where could she be? 

Like a ghost he trailed through the walls checking the bathroom and then his own room where the doll Brahms was missing as well. Panic was starting to creep up into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. The space in the walls felt too close now, too hot as his breath came out in gasps against his mask. Where was she? Did she leave? Why would she leave him? Why would she leave him? Why-

The scraping of a chair downstairs was loud- snapping him out of his thoughts. Why was she downstairs so early? 

Adora was in the kitchen, seated at the table with a mug in front of her. The other Brahms lay awkwardly on his back on the table in his pajamas. Adora was still in her pajamas too, a large sweatshirt that fell to nearly her knees and a pair of soft pants with odd words on them. What was she doing? She looked exhausted. Hair piled in a large, very messy bun that had curls springing out of it and stray hair framing her face. Her makeup was the same as always though, neatly applied even if it didn't exactly hide the dark bags under her eyes. 

Eyes that were currently narrowed at the wall where he was standing. He backed up a step, wondering if she could somehow see him. Even as quiet as he was she always seemed to be able to tell when he was around. How did she do that? 

"Brahms?" She said. Her face was set in that neutral expression he recognized from when they were children, the one that made him feel like she was reading his soul. He lightly tapped the wall, letting her know he was there. 

Adora stood up and came to stand in front of where he was. "Are you- are you in the fucking walls? Is that how you get around?" 

While she didn't exactly sound angry Brahms was thrown off by her cursing. Cursing usually meant anger or frustration right? But her tone only sounded curious. How was he supposed to answer? The last thing he wanted was for her to be mad at him. 

"How about this, one knock yes, two knocks no. Can we do that?" 

Well now what was his supposed to do? Should he answer the first question or the second question? 

Apparently his internal debate took too long because she called his name again, asking if he was still there. Giving one tap to the wall he was relieved when she smiled. 

"There see? That's not so hard. I'm going to ask you some questions, will you answer them for me?" 

One knock. Yes, he would do anything for her. She walked back over to the table and pulled the chair she had been sitting in over to the wall and sat back down.

"Okay. So. Are you Brahms Heelshire?" 

One knock. Yes. The bad Brahms. 

"Are you a ghost?" 

Two knocks. No. He was a different kind of monster. A worse one. This game was kind of fun. 

"Okay. So you're a real actual person? I'm not fucking nuts?" 

This one was a bit harder. He supposed he was a person but Brahms couldn't say for certain. Did he still qualify as one after all this time? Was he allowed to? Mum made it clear that only vermin lived in the walls, and it was against the rules for him to leave. So was he a monster, a person, or vermin? Is it possible to be all three? Shaking his head he decided no. He didn't want to be vermin. 

One knock. Brahms was a person. 

Shifting in her seat she moved a little closer to the wall. Pushing her glasses up her nose Brahms held his laughter in at how silly she would probably look if someone saw her talking to the kitchen wall. 

"Brahms are you in the wall?" 

One knock. Yes. Easy question. 

"Why the fuck are you in the wall?" 

That was not a yes or no question. His little monster sure did have a foul mouth. Rude little thing.

"Okay okay yeah. Brahms?" 

One tap. Yes, he was still here. 

"Do you- uhm. Do you remember me?" 

Of course he did. How could he forget? How was he supposed to use knocks to translate how he would forget his own name before he forgot her? How did he tell her that she was the only reason he didn't give up as he lay bleeding in the darkness of the walls as a child? That she got him through years of being cold and alone as he watched the time go by from inside the walls? It was impossible. If she didn't know what she meant to him she might leave. He could see it on her face, the way she feared his answer. 

"I'll never forget you, little monster." 

Adora shrieked as she jumped up from her chair, knocking it over. Brahms jumped as well, not expecting such an… explosive reaction. Did he scare her? He didn't want her to be scared of him no that was the last thing he would ever want. 

"Don't be scared Adora, I'll be good I promise." His voice started to crack at the end. Brahms pressed his forehead against the wall, wishing he could convey how he would do anything to please her. 

"Jesus fuck- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to talk. It's okay, it's okay, see?" Righting the chair she sat back down and moved forward so her knees touched the wall. "Brahms why do you sound like that?" 

Like what? Mum preferred if he had to talk at all he should sound like the doll. Neither of his parents would acknowledge him unless they were talking to the doll, and little boys didn't growl when they talked. Wouldn't Adora want him to be as close to the doll as he could? She liked the doll. They all liked the doll. The doll was how they talked to him, it was his face now. Not his physical face but the one he had to use. Because nobody talks to him. They talk to the doll. 

"Brahms I know you're in the wall not the doll. I'm talking to you, Brahms. Okay? So you don't have to do… whatever the fuck that was okay?" 

Standing up straight Brahms was absolutely certain Adora was heaven sent. One knock. Yes. Yes. Nobody had talked to him since… It's been a long time. But her attention was on him, the real him. 

Until she found out he was a monster. 

"Brahms will you come out of the wall?" 

Two knocks. No. If she saw him she would know what he has become. She would see the sins that had mangled his body. Brahms couldn't lose Adora. He just got her back. No. 

"Come on Brahms I want to talk to you about something important and we can't do that with a wall between us." 

One knock. Yes we can. 

Brahms' jaw dropped when Adora laughed. He had made her laugh! Lord he loved the way she laughed. 

"You're kind of a smart ass, aren't you." 

Two knocks. Rude little monster. 

"Okay fine. I'm going to sit here," as she talked Adora moved the chair back to the table and sat down with her back to the kitchen window, "I'm going to sit here until you come out of the wall and talk to me. I don't care if it takes days. No music, no reading, no good food. Just me, coffee and this box of granola bars. Take your time." And to prove her point she slouched in her chair, opening the box in front of her and taking a granola bar out. 

Adora couldn't be serious could she? Why would she just ignore the schedule? The rules? She needed to follow the rules. If she didn't they would get in trouble. The rules were there for a reason she couldn't just. 

She can't be serious. 

Right? 

~ 

They had been sitting in the kitchen for nearly four hours now. Nothing he had done made her move. Even going upstairs and throwing her things around her room did nothing. Adora would occasionally make comments about how she could be just as much of a 'pain in the ass' as he could. She also threw a granola bar out into the hallway by ricocheting it off the kitchen door frame and said 'wouldn't want you to starve while we're waiting here.'

But other than that? 

Nothing. 

It looked like she knew this would happen too, because she had a book on the table she picked up and started reading five minutes after the stalemate started. Not to mention how an hour in he went to put a record on to break the silence of the house but found all the records had been hidden. Hidden! From him! He knew every nook and cranny in this house, it was his domain but she managed to hide a large box of his things from him. Adora was absolutely infuriating. How had she planned this? This torture? He was saving her from having to look upon his monstrous visage and this was how she repaid him. By being an absolute brat.

Smacking the wall made her jump but she didn't say anything about it, and he found scaring her wasn't as satisfying as he thought it would be.

Brahms was getting frustrated. 

Lying with his back against the floor he listened to the ambient noises of the house and the quiet hush of Adora turning pages. 

How does one beat a being with eternal patience? 

Thinking about it the only reason he found himself frustrated with being ignored was because she gave him attention in the first place. Adora had pulled the rug out beneath him, taking away the one thing he craved more than anything else. The first person to talk to him directly, to act as though he was a person instead of a monster and she was forcing him into submission by devoiding him of attention? How could his Adora be so cruel? 

He could ignore her of course. Go back to his room and continue reading the book he had taken from her. If she could be stubborn so could he. It was his house, she was supposed to follow his rules. Adora was being unfair. 

But the memory of his dream was still so close to the front of his mind. Her hands warm in his hair and on the back of his neck. Brahms wanted to be surrounded by her presence, he didn't want to feel that ache of being without her. To feel her hands on him, to make her laugh and to feel the warmth of her smile? There was nothing else that could keep him from her. The only thing standing between them was his reluctance to allow her to see him. Mum and dad were terrified of him, the monster that had been their child. The cold terror of having to deal with Adora's disgust at his appearance lingered in his stomach. She was expecting the child she had befriended years ago wasn't she? That's why he had been replaced with the doll in the first place. The doll had no sins to distort his skin, the doll hadn't grown into a hulking figure of a broken man. The doll would always be a perfectly preserved reminder of what he had done and the punishment he received. 

Brahms would never allow Adora to leave. She would stay with him, and love him. Getting up from the floor he silently walked towards the panel in the dining room that opened into the wall. Adora would get what she asked for, she would get to see the monster. 

And she would either love him, or she would learn to. He couldn't let her leave him. 

Not to mention the curiosity was killing him. What did she want to talk about? 

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen he tried to make himself as small as possible to avoid scaring her as much as he could. Her back was to him, filling the coffee pot with water to make another pot. The sky outside was grey and overcast enough to make the house dark even at noon. Usually on days like this Adora would turn quite a few lights on around the house, but the only light in the kitchen was coming through the window. Hands behind his back he watched her, curious about what she was thinking about with so much concentration. Was she thinking about him? 

Finishing with the coffee maker Adora turned around and noticed him immediately. Her lower back bumped against the counter and her mouth dropped open and closed with a snap. She was without a doubt scared but her fear only lasted for a moment before she took a deep breath. 

"Brahms?" Clutching her sweatshirt over her heart her voice was so sweetly tentative. He nodded in reply, knocking on the door frame once. Brahms' heart picked up its pace when his sweet little monster covered her mouth with a hand, barely stifling a sob. Her eyes quickly filled with tears that she tried to wipe away but they kept falling down her cheeks. 

Brahms was at a loss, eyes widening in panic he wasn't sure how to deal with her reaction. He thought maybe she would scream or curse at him but crying? Lord was she adorable when she cried. Her glasses kept getting knocked askew as she tried to wipe at her eyes and her makeup was beginning to look slightly raccoonish. With a start he took a step back as she suddenly rushed towards him, throwing her arms around his middle she let out a watery laugh. The butterflies were back in full force, all crawling around trying to escape from his stomach. Adora was so small as he squished her to him, she didn't even come up to his chin. 

Pulling away from him she wrinkled her nose at him in that expression that reminded him so much of a rabbit. He tilted his head in confusion as she went to the table and sat down, pointing to the chair across from her. "I'm so happy to see you. I want to talk to you." 

Sitting down where she indicated he wasn't really a fan of how serious she looked. With her hands folded in front of her she was staring into his soul again. He wished their positions were switched so that the light from the window was illuminating her face instead of casting it in shadows. Brahms wanted to see her pretty blue eyes. 

"Okay. Okay so, first thing. I'm not taking care of the doll anymore." 

What.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3


	6. Dirty is as Dirty Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Local Wall Dweller Gets in the Shower

Adora decided that maybe that wasn't the best opening sentence. Brahms stood up quickly, knocking his chair over and towering over the table. Jesus he was fucking tall. He wasn't bulky persay, but he was definitely broad. And so tall. 

And such a fucking brat. 

It had taken four hours for him to settle down and come out of the wall. She heard him upstairs wrecking something and she was equal parts annoyed and terrified. He was so quick to break things when he was angry. And from the sound of it he was throwing furniture around, and she was probably more or less easier to break than a wooden dresser. There was really nothing to do about it except hope that he drew the line at beating her too. Adora had gained a paralyzing fear of ending up like her mother and no matter how much he had meant to her when they were children, if Brahms hit her once she wouldn't hesitate to leave. Whether it was in Malcolm's car or walking her ass back to town. He couldn't keep her here. 

"Chill okay, let me explain." Brahms didn't sit back down, his chest heaving. He was… quite hairy now that she looked. Okay anyways. 

"Oh are you standing now? Okay. I'm still sitting though." No reaction. That was mostly expected though. "Okay see this?" She waved her hand back and forth between them. "We're talking face to face see? I know you're not a doll and I'm not going to pretend you are." He narrowed his eyes at her but seemed to calm down a bit. Adora found herself fascinated by his eyes. They were a very mossy hazel, more green than brown. The white part of his right eye was red and she could see a peek at a thin scar on the upper lid. Was that why he was wearing the mask? Was more of his face scarred? His neck seemed unscathed but with the thick old cardigan he was wearing she couldn't see much else. As he picked his chair up and righted it to sit down again she looked at his hands on the table when he mirrored her position. His right hand had thick raised scarring on most of the back of it. 

"I don't want to spend my time with the doll, I want to spend it with you."

"The rules." He said again in that spine chilling high pitched voice. The first time he spoke like that she honestly thought the doll was talking and nearly pissed herself. 

"I'm following the rules. You are Brahms. This?" She pointed to the doll that lay next to them on the table. "This is not Brahms." 

"The rules, Adora." 

Her brain completely pulled a blank at the low growl his voice had become. 

Oh. Okay. That was unexpected. 

"I- fuck, you- you know- would you listen to me?" Brahms didn't answer, remaining motionless across from her. It was kind of hard to tell what he was feeling from only his eyes but he didn't look angry. If she had to guess Adora would say he looked slightly suspicious of her intentions. 

And thinking back to how Mrs. Heelshire treated the doll it was no wonder. Had Brahms grown up watching his mom and dad baby the doll? While their actual child was inside the walls? Was that why he talked like a child? Jesus Christ. Or maybe she was just jumping to conclusions. Did he prefer for people to talk to the doll? If that was the case she felt like a fucking asshole for making him come out of the walls. But on the other hand it's not exactly healthy to hide inside the walls your entire life. Fuck she was in way over her head, Brahms needed like, professional help. Not her dumb ass. What if she messed him up worse? 

"Brahms." Adora said. Shifting in her seat she pulled one of her legs up on the chair, banging her knee on the underside of the table in the process. Smooth. "I should have asked you first, I'm sorry. Are you comfortable talking face to face like this, or would you prefer I talk to the doll?" 

Brahms' gaze dropped to her hands and she watched him slowly reach for them across the table. Gently, as if she were made of glass, he took one of her hands in both of his and traced the many scars she had with his fingers. Most of them came from helping Katy rescue stray cats but some of them were from being clumsy in the kitchen. Okay maybe most of them were from being clumsy. 

Adora waited for him to say something, to answer her question but maybe this was his answer. This morning he barely wanted to leave the walls, but now here he was holding her hand. His eyes held a softness in them as he watched their hands that made Adora's heart ache. When they were kids they were always close to each other, laying together while he read to her or sitting together in a tree they climbed to hide from his mother. They held hands, they hugged. Adora even remembered kissing him once, a silly little promise between little kids when they didn't even know what a kiss meant. 

Now they were adults, all grown up twenty years later, both broken by different cruelties the world had shown them. When was the last time someone had even touched him? Held his hand? How did she ask about something as heavy as this? 

"We can still use the schedule, and follow the rules if that's what you want. But I missed my best friend, I want to do these things with you instead of the doll. Is that okay?" 

Brahms didn't answer this time either. Never taking his eyes off of her hands he slowly stood, coming around to her side of the table and pushing her chair out before sinking down to his knees. He brought her hand up to his masked cheek, the porcelain cold against her skin. Tilting his head into her touch he closed his eyes and sunk into her. 

He was so warm. Brahms was warm and he was honestly kind of heavy where he was leaning against her thighs but he was. He was alive. Leaving her one hand on his cheek she ran the other through his hair. As children he wore it much shorter, and brushing through his slightly greasy curls she found she really liked it like this. His brown hair was much darker and even now as dirty as he was it was soft. 

Adora wasn't much of a fighter. She was all bark and very little bite, when put into a situation that might end in a confrontation Adora's natural response was to just burst into tears. It wasn't really on purpose but she would just freeze and the waterworks would turn on. 

Now though? 

She was considering fist fighting the Heelshires. 

"Let's go upstairs and put the doll away okay?" Brahms lifted his face off of her thigh and looked up at her in a panic. "The doll. Not the Brahms. You and I will have some fun today okay? But let's put the doll in your room. He'll be safe there." 

Brahms stared at her for a moment before he slowly nodded his head. He kind of reminded her of the stray dogs Katelyn would bring home. They would always be really weary at first but jeez Brahms was really good at the puppy dog eyes. And he wasn't even asking for anything yet, Adora knew she was fucked if he ever figured out how to use that expression to his advantage. 

They both stood up; though it was more like Adora stood up and Brahms stood up and up and up. The top of her head was barely level with his shoulder. Honestly she was like- titty height. He wore a grimy undershirt under an old green cardigan that was fraying in more than a few spots. The way he stood was kind of odd, he towered over her in an obvious manner standing way too close but the way he shrunk into himself when she looked up into his eyes made her wonder why he was trying to be so small. Did he even know he was doing it or was it on purpose to make her feel better? 

Adora was frustrated that the questions kept piling up. There was no way she was going to ask him anything too heavy this soon. The man just came out of the walls for fucks sake, and that took her four hours to accomplish. She was in no way a therapist but she knew he didn't need to be interrogated. He needed a friend.

Not gonna lie though, Adora thought as she smiled at him and grabbed the doll from the table, Brahms also needed a shower. 

*** 

Brahms grabbed the doll from Adora and scowled at it behind his mask. Adora was his now, he wasn't going to share even with himself. She held her hand out for him to take and he greedily accepted. Anything to be close to her, any excuse to feel her skin. His brief time with his face in her lap would probably end up center stage in his dreams later if he was lucky. 

Walking up the stairs with her Brahms studied everything about Adora that he didn't notice yesterday with the blindfold on. He quite liked her glasses. When he had first picked them up to study them while she slept he thought they were oddly large but the way they fit her heart shaped face was perfect. She also had a small scar on the left side of the bridge of her nose next to her eye that he was curious about. Brahms was curious about all her odd scars. Especially the one on her lip. 

Adora tripped when they reached the third floor and the only reason she didn't face plant was because Brahms let go of her hand to grab the back of her sweater. Hauling her upright he shook his head a little when she started laughing. Odd little thing. 

"It's a good thing you're carrying the doll. I probably would have dropped it. And managed to break my nose. Thanks Brahms." He hummed his response and followed her to his old room. 

Brahms hated it in here. Looking around at the toys on the shelves and the soft sheets he was just reminded once more that he had lost so much. Good boys got soft sheets and fun toys. They got goodnight kisses and hugs from mum. Bedtimes stories and playtime. 

Bad boys were told to stay in the walls and never cry. Bad boys lived in complete darkness, they slept on small cots far away from everyone else in the house. They cried by themselves, quietly. Alone. He hated the good Brahms. 

"Okiedokie well let's just sit him in the chair and we can go do something else." Adora said. She gently took the doll from him and walked to the rocking chair in the corner where she sat him down. Brahms followed her closely. 

When Adora turned around she bumped into him with a little 'oof.' He liked that she had to look up at him. She was making that funny face again… the rabbit one. He tried to mimic her and wrinkle his nose the same way but it was probably much cuter on her. 

"Brahms I'm gonna be real with you for a second okay?" 

He nodded, though he had never heard that term before. Was it an American thing? Sometimes she sounded so very American it made him laugh. 

"We're friends right?" Brahms nodded enthusiastically. Adora was his best friend of course. 

"So. As your friend. I'm telling you that you need to take a shower." She was looking up at him with her big blue eyes in such a captivating way that it took him a moment to really comprehend her words. 

Brahms head jerked back and he stared at her in confusion. Why in the world would she ask him to take a shower? That wasn't really something you go around asking. Quite rude honestly. Why would she need him to shower? 

Oh.

She was using this as an opportunity to sneak out wasn't she? As soon as he got into the bathroom she would bolt. Had she already called Malcolm? Was he just waiting around the bend of the driveway? 

"No." Brahms said. She couldn't trick him. 

"No?" Adora looked confused. "Why no? I'm honestly not trying to embarrass you Brahms but you smell like an old attic and sweat. You need a shower." 

"No." 

"Brahms." Adora took a deep breath and put her hands over her face. Brahms bent so they were face to face and tugged her wrists so he could see her face again. 

She let out her breath and maneuvered her hands so they were linked with his. Standing up straight he enjoyed how she played with his fingers. "Brahms. Will you please tell me why you won't take a shower?" 

Quickly he debated on letting her know he was aware of her escape plans. If she knew she might try to be extra sneaky. But maybe she might just give up. He hoped she would see how useless it was. Brahms was never going to let her go. 

"You'll leave." He mumbled. 

The look of hurt that flashed across her face made his heart pang with regret. That wasn't an expected reaction. 

"Brahms… I'm not leaving you. Not until you kick my ass out of the house. But you need a shower. Regularly." 

The answer came to him very suddenly. She couldn't really run away if she was in the bathroom with him. Perfect. 

Keeping one of their hands tangled together he led them to the bathroom, shutting the door behind them both. Adora looked at the door and then him, then back to the door and when she turned to face him she had the most incredulous look on her face. 

"I can't be in here while you shower!" She squeaked. Her cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink. Tilting his head in question he was honestly puzzled. Why not? 

"It's inappropriate." 

Brahms slowly shook his head still not understanding. This was the perfect way. The only way really. She would get what she wanted and Brahms would do as she asked. It wasn't like he was really opposed to showering, he just didn't want to leave her alone. 

"Okay let me ask it like this. Brahms. Are you comfortable letting me see you naked? No clothes, no mask?" Brahms stiffened immediately. No. Okay he hadn't thought of that. She couldn't see his scars no, that would be. Awful. Adora would never love him if she saw his face. "See? You don't want to be seen naked, I'm not comfortable seeing you naked. I can't be in the bathroom while you shower." 

Damn. 

Adora unlocked the door but she didn't step out and she didn't try to pull their hands apart. She seemed to be waiting for him to make the decision himself. He needed a new plan. 

The blindfold. 

Brahms put his hands on her shoulders and moved her over to sit on the closed toilet seat. Pointing at her he waited till she rolled her eyes and nodded at him. Adora crossed her legs and leaned back. She would stay. Good girl. 

Quickly going to her room he found the same piece of fabric she had used yesterday as a blindfold and returned to the bathroom. Adora was still there, though now her arms were crossed and she looked to be pouting. Brahms was weak to her pouty face. She just looked so cute with her bottom lip all pushed out like that. He kind of wished her hair was down. He really enjoyed her bouncy curls and he couldn't really think about running his fingers through her hair when it was up. 

Holding out the blindfold to her she raised an eyebrow but took the fabric, muttering something like 'how kinky' under her breath as she set her glasses on the edge of the sink and tied it around her eyes. 

"Okay. Fine. I will sit here. You shower." 

"Good girl." He said, patting her on the head. Her cheeks turned pink again. 

Turning on the water Brahms kept his eyes on Adora. It felt… severely naughty to be slipping out of his clothes in the same room as her. There had been more than a few scenes in her novels where the characters had sex in the shower but he hadn't even thought of it when he first came up with this idea. Now it was all he could think about. His suspenders hanging down Brahms pulled off his tank top and paused with his fingers on the buttons to his pants. The thick scar tissue on his forearm ran all the way up to his shoulder blade where it joined the scars on his back. 

That was one way to kill his mood. 

Avoiding looking at himself in the mirror he finished undressing and slowly pulled the mask from his face, setting it carefully on his pile of clothes. He might not trust that Adora wouldn't leave him, but he trusted that she wouldn't peek. 

It felt nice to shower. He might have gotten used to how dirty he got from all the dust in the walls and the soot that always stuck to him from being behind the fireplaces but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. Since Adora had arrived there was never really a safe time to sneak a shower, but even before that he usually had to wait for his parents to make their monthly trips into town to shower. They hated any reminder that he was still there. He could appreciate the opportunity to be clean more often. 

"You can use my shampoo and conditioner. And my body wash. You're gonna smell pretty girly but until we can get you some of your own stuff it'll have to do." Brahms jumped a bit when she started talking; so lost in his thoughts he forgot she was there. He looked at the bottle in his hands with a slightly guilty expression. He had already used her stuff before asking. "Not that men or people who don't identify as a woman can't use those specific products. I'm sure they like smelling like cherry blossoms too." Brahms shook his head as she continued talking. Silly little thing. 

After he was nice and clean Brahms shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. Just as he bent down to grab his clothing to redress himself Adora sat up straight and yelled 'wait!' Grabbing his mask he secured it to his face. Honestly the woman was going to give him a heart attack. 

"You can't put your clothes back on they're dirty." He gave her a look that she couldn't see because- blindfolded. But honestly what was he supposed to wear? "Do you have any clean clothes… wherever it is that you sleep?" 

...Clean? No… 

"No." He said when he realized she couldn't see him shake his head. 

"Okay. I have some clothes that will fit you. And then we can wash your clothes for you, is that okay?" 

Brahms knew that whatever clothing she gave him was never finding its way back to her. "Yes." 

"Okay. Neat. So. Fuck. I can't really take this thing off yet. Okay. Grab your stuff and guide me to my room." 

Brahms did as she asked. When she tripped on the rug in the hallway he considered just picking her up but decided against it. How was Adora just as clumsy as she had been twenty years ago? Honestly. 

When they made it to her bedroom she asked him to take her to the closet and close the door so she could look around. Brahms did so. He put his ear to the door and listened as she shuffled clothing around and chuckled when she tripped over a shoe and started cursing. His little monster was a hazard to herself. 

"Hey is my MSU sweatshirt out there? I can't find it." Furrowing his brow Brahms looked at the door. Wasn't that the sweater she was wearing? "Hello?" She called out when he didn't answer. 

"Adora, aren't you wearing it?" 

Silence. 

"Don't you laugh at me. Fuck I'm dumb." 

Trailing his fingers lightly over the little hearts on the mirror he smiled. Brahms was a little antsy to get back to the schedule but so far his time outside of the walls has been amazing. Adora hasn't made any comment about his mask and she's been her same self around him as she was with the doll. She saw him. And she treated him like a person. Not a monster. 

A bang on the closet door and muffled cursing drew his attention away from the mirror. Adora opened the door and stepped out, a pair of plaid pajama pants and her sweatshirt in her hands. Now she was wearing a tight tank top with thin straps that showed enough skin to make wearing a towel awkward. Dear Lord. 

"My fuckin' elbow dude." She rubbed her elbow with one hand and held out the clothes in her other. 

Quickly getting dressed he was very pleased that these clothes fit him. The pants didn't end several inches above his ankles and the sweater was very soft inside. Plus it smelled like Adora so he was quite happy with how this was turning out. 

Brahms gently undid the blindfold for her. Adora looked up at him with her pretty blue eyes and he gently ran the pad of his thumb over her cheeks when they turned pink. She was absolutely beautiful. 

Unfolding her glasses from her shirt she put them on and stepped around him to grab his clothes from the floor. "Of course you look better in my clothes than I do. Okay so why don't we go get your other dirty clothes to start a load of laundry?" 

Adora… in his room? He thought about her books on the floor and her dress on the doll. Her teddy bear. Uh. 

"No." He said, shaking his head.

"Why no now?" Adora asked. Her shoulders slumped and she was pouting again. 

"I'll get…" Once again he was struck by the same problem. Could he risk leaving her alone to do as she asked? Just the thought of her trying to run away made him go rigid. No. He couldn't. 

"I'll stay right here." Adora said, throwing herself onto the bed. It was a very serious moment and he wasn't going to be distracted by how much of her bra he could see peeking out of her top. 

As much as he longed to trust that she would stay with him forever how was he supposed to when everyone else had left him? Mum and Dad couldn't get out the door fast enough. He will not lose her too. 

"I can see you over thinking something there Brahms. The room key is on the dresser. Lock me in here if you still think I'll run. I don't mind." Walking to the dresser that she pointed at he grabbed the key. She gave him a little wave as he closed the door and locked it. Brahms felt much better knowing exactly where she was and that she would stay there. 

"You have to trust me someday." She called through the door. 

Someday, he quietly promised her. When she loved him too much to leave him he would trust her. Someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adora: Take a shower Brahms.   
> Brahms: *surprised pikachu face*
> 
> The chapter everyone has been waiting for, THE BOY GETS CLEAN.


	7. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little lesson in being patient.

Adora never got her key back. 

In the two days that she had now spent going over the schedule with Brahms, Adora was still learning things about him. Some things were very much as they always had been with him. Brahms liked to read. In the years that he had been stuck in the walls he had basically memorized the textbooks his mother used for the doll's study time. He was better at math than her by a landslide, and when he had fluently begun speaking to her in French she had actually felt her brain malfunction. No idea what he said but it was still amazing. Brahms said that everything he learned, he learned from books. 

Since there really wasn't any point in study time anymore Adora and Brahms took turns reading Harry Potter out loud. They were on the third book now and it was Brahms' turn, Adora was very comfortable with her legs thrown over the arm of the chair she was in and snuggling into a blanket. She much preferred when Brahms read. When he wasn't giving her nightmares by imitating a child he had such an amazing voice. She had taken to doing annoying little things just to hear him growl out her name. Which was very inappropriate but jesus. 

When Brahms read he often paused to ask questions or ask her opinion on something that was happening or a character. Despite his voice being muffled from his mask she never asked him to take it off or complained about it. It didn't matter to her if he wore it or not, she was just working towards having him trust her with certain things. Like going outside. 

The sound of a car driving up made them both turn to the window. Oh shit it was Monday wasn't it? Standing up she peeked out the curtain to see Malcolm's car going around the side of the house towards the kitchen door. 

"Brahms-" Adora turned around but Brahms had disappeared. God damnit. Fucking sneaky ass ninja. 

Meeting Malcolm in the kitchen Adora wondered if Brahms was watching from the walls. Malcolm smiled at her and just as she was going to greet him the phone rang. He laughed when she slumped her shoulders and walked back out of the kitchen. 

Picking up the phone in the hallway she leaned her hip against the slim table it sat on. "Hello?" 

"Adora!" 

"Eli, can you give me a second I need to give Malcolm an envelope to take into town and mail." 

"Yeah I'll wait." 

Setting the phone next to the base she walked to the study and opened a desk drawer that she had found envelopes in her first week at the house. Quickly sticking a couple stamps on it and grabbing a pen she walked into the kitchen. Malcolm was already finishing up with the groceries by the time she reentered. 

"Busy today?" He asked. 

Adora snorted. "It's been quiet all day and then everyone seems to want to talk to me at once." 

"Do you get many people calling the Heelshires?" 

"Nope. I don't think anybody has called for them since I've been here. They haven't called to check in either." 

"Odd." Malcolm looked thoughtful for a moment before taking an envelope out of his back pocket and sliding it across the table to her. 

"Yeah. So how's your romance with the American girl going?" Adora asked. Taking about three quarters of the money in the envelope she folded it in a piece of paper and put it in the new envelope addressed to her siblings.

"Great actually. We've gotten tea a couple times at a place in town. We're getting drinks tonight at the pub and she wanted me to extend the invitation to you." 

"Aw that's sweet of her. I'd love to meet her!" 

Malcolm took the new envelope when she held it out to him. "I'll let her know. We'll pick you up about half past six? I've got to get back to town to mail this and finish some things up at the shop."

"Okiedokie. Bye Malcolm." 

Adora watched him leave before she remembered her brother was still on the phone. Shit. 

Rushing out of the kitchen she wiped her sweaty hands off on her dress before she picked up the phone. "You still there Eli?" 

"Helllloooooo, sister dearest." 

"I'm glad you called, I have a favor to ask." She could hear Peter laughing in the background. 

"Oh hell yeah favors." 

"It's a secret though. You can't tell anyone, especially Sam." 

"Oh the intrigue. The drama. Peter get out of my room." Loud protesting and the slam of a door made her laugh. "Alright hit me with it. I love secrets." 

"You know that box of textbooks from when Peter and Maria went to college?"

"Uh-huh."

"I need you to send it to me. Or at least the books Katy wont need next year, she's already looked through it right? And Even doesn't need any right?" Adora stretched out her leg to try and hook the chair across the hall so she could sit but her legs were too short. Damnit. 

"I can do that. You really that bored?"

"Yes. Yes I was uh. Going to just. Read them. Because I am bored." Adora winced at herself. Real smooth. 

"Kay, we're gonna ignore the fact that you're the worst liar I've ever heard." Eli said with a laugh.

"Shut your face." 

"Oooo burn. Is that the only thing you needed?" 

"No, okay and this is the secret part but before I tell you, you're not allowed to ask any questions."

"Whaaaat kind of bullshit is that?"

"That's a question." Resting her elbows on the table Adora knew Eli would come around.

"Ugh you're taking the fun out of secrets. Fine. What do you want." He complained.

"Okay remember that one time we went shopping for a new soap for you, one that wouldn't irritate your asthma?"

"This conversation has taken a weird turn. Yeah I remember."

"Remember that one I really liked? The bottle was like, dark blue or something and you were like 'eh' about it?" 

"Yeah cause it smelled kind of like one of my exes." 

"I need you to buy me some of it. Like the whole set, body wash and shampoo and stuff." She crossed her fingers in hope that he wouldn't ask why the fuck she needed men's shampoo.

"You know when I woke up this morning I was like I'm going to call my sister that I love very much, and here we are." 

"Ellliiiiiiiii." 

"Yeah yeah I'll enable your soap fetish."

"What?!" She squeaked.

"Oh is that not what this is?" Eli said casually.

"No! Why are you like this?"

"Says the one with a soap fetish." He really needed to stop saying soap fetish. 

"I'm going to try and refrain from murdering you in your sleep."

"Addiction is a serious problem Adora. We're your family, we're here for you. Even if it's soap and not cocaine." Jesus, Adora prayed that Brahms wasn't listening to this conversation. 

"Are you done, I have more things I need."

"Soap?"

"No. Do you know what size pants Sam wears?" 

"What size he wears or what size he is? Cause he wears pants that are too long, he likes when they drag slightly." 

Adora was stunned for a moment. "Why do you know that?" 

"It was driving me crazy like two weeks ago, so I asked. The noise it makes when he walks across concrete in flip flops is honestly the soundtrack to my own personal hell."

"Why is he wearing flip flops? It's almost the end of October." 

"Evan painted cats on his shoes in retaliation for him denying Katy another cat." 

"She already has four."

"Don't tell her that, you'll come back and your room will look like the feline sistine chapel." 

Muffled yelling on the other end made her pause. The sound of a door opening and then a thump and the door slamming shut again was slightly alarming.

"Peter was listening through the door and wants in on whatever secret mission we're doing. Fucking creep. What if I'd been having phone sex or something huh? You'd be scarred for life." 

Jesus Christ. 

"Fine." She said. "I need you to get me some pants in the size he wears, not the size he is. Like, a couple pairs of jeans and some nice black pants. And Peter size shirts. Nice shirts and like, casual shirts." 

Eli relayed her message. Peter was saying something but she couldn't understand what so she just waited for Eli to tell her. 

"Peter is offended you don't know our sizes, but I don't care. What else you need?" 

"Nothing. That's it." 

"What? No socks or shoes or underwear?" 

"Uhhh." 

"That's fine, we're just gonna wing it."

"Okay, thank-" 

"Peter do you know where the keys-" 

Eli hung up mid sentence. Rude. 

Adora gave the phone a disappointed look and put it back on its cradle. She would have liked to have talked some more, see how everyone was doing. Though maybe considering Eli was a very 'if you give me a task I absolutely need to do it immediately right now' type of person she should have asked the favor at the end of the conversation. 

Brahms was still missing from the study room so Adora just got comfortable in her chair again. He usually got a little grumpy if something interrupted his schedule, which was something she found entirely too hilarious. Something about a grown ass man giving her the 'why are you like this' look just made her laugh. And he was never grumpy for long, he'd be back to his inquisitive self five minutes after whatever she did to annoy him. 

Which she honestly did on purpose sometimes. 

Like yesterday during lunch when she took out the things for sandwiches and asked him to make them. The look he gave her was entirely too much like a kicked puppy and she had to laugh, then he was pouty because she was laughing at him. He couldn't stay mad at her though, especially if she was laughing. Adora loved it when she managed to make him laugh. She had started ‘improving’ lines in Harry Potter and when she had Ron call Gilderoy Lockheart a bloody fuckin moron it must have startled Brahms so much he started laughing. He had such a good laugh, it was so free and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adora wished she could see his smile though. 

Trying to make him laugh might be a large portion of the reason she annoyed him. Maybe. 

If she hadn't been listening for the sound of his nearly silent footsteps she probably would have had a heart attack when his face appeared over the back of her chair. He was still wearing her sweatshirt but he had changed to a different pair of pants. Adora hadn't asked but she was pretty sure they were his father's, being several inches above his ankles and held up with suspenders. They had changed play time to Brahms shower time, which he was surprisingly agreeable about. She had been convinced he would throw a fit about it. 

"Adora." Brahms came around to the front of the chair, trailing his hand down the back of the chair and over her legs on the arm as he went. 

"Brahms." Adora said. 

Crouching so they were face to face Brahms was quiet as he asked, "Will you come sit with me?" 

"Uh. Sure?" She went to go get up but Brahms put an arm around her waist and one under her legs and picked her up, blanket cocoon and all. With a noise that was borderline squeaky toy she flailed for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck. "Holy shit Brahms." 

She was going to ignore how hot it was that he just picked her up with ease. Nope. Not thinking about it. Nooooot thinking about it. 

Carrying her to the lounge instead of sitting her on one of the couches he sat down with her in his lap, hugging her to him like a teddy bear. Brahms' arms and thighs were very muscular and while his stomach wasn't like, rock hard abs he was still very fit. This was the closest they had been to each other since finding out Brahms was alive and Jesus Adora knew her face had to be bright red. 

Not. Thinking. About it. 

"Adora." 

"Yes?" She squeaked out. 

"I…" He shoved his face into her neck, the coldness of his mask making her gasp for a moment. He said something but with his face smushed into his mask and her neck it was just unintelligible mumbles. 

"What?" Brahms pulled back a little and looked at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. What on earth could she have done to warrant this. 

"I'm sorry." 

"For what?" She asked. He reached up and ran his hand through her hair. 

"I don't want you to leave." Burying his face back into her neck he squeezed her just a little too tightly. 

"Brahms what are you talking about?" 

"You can't leave me. I won't let you." Brahms' hand moved to the back of her neck and tightened threateningly. 

"Who said anything about leaving?" Adora probably resembled a turtle with the way her shoulders bunched up. This situation seemed like it could get bad very quickly and she wasn't sure how to make sure it didn't escalate. 

"Malcolm is trying to steal you away from me. I won't let him. You're mine." He growled into her ear. 

What an unfortunate moment to be turned on. 

Wiggling around on his lap she threw the blanket off the couch and straddled him. The action took him by surprise, his eyes wide behind his mask. Adora put her hands on the cold cheeks of his mask, her fingers grazing the edges. He must have thought she might try to take it off because his hands came up and cupped hers. She needed to make him understand and she needed to do it delicately. 

"Brahms. I understand why you're afraid that I might leave. But please, please, please look into my eyes and listen to me when I say I'm never going to leave you." Brahms silently stared at her so she continued. "I want to spend a couple hours with Malcolm and his girlfriend. You've heard him talk about Greta right? He's not trying to take me away from you, he doesn't know that I'm not alone in this house."

"You don't need friends. You have me."

"I do have you, you're my best friend. You always have been. There is no competition between you and anyone else okay? But wouldn't it be nice if we also had other friends? Malcolm and Greta would like you too."

"No." He said sullenly. 

"Brahms."

"It's against the rules." 

"The rules suck!" He looked so offended when she said that she thought he might push her off of him. 

"The rules are important." Brahms argued. 

Adora grabbed his hands and held them to her chest. "Brahms listen to me. You know what we can do? We can make new rules. Because your parent's rules suck. They're only there to control you."

"The rules keep us safe." Leaning forward his porcelain nose bumped into hers but Adora didn't back down.

"Keep you safe from what? Being a normal adult? You have missed out on so much of your life for no God damned reason other than your parents thought you needed to stay in the walls. Why? What could that keep you safe from?"

"You don't understand Adora." 

"So make me understand! Brahms you could have friends, we could go outside and have fun. I would love for you to come with us, of course I would. What are you afraid of?" 

"You wouldn't love me if you knew."

"Brahms for fucks sake you came out of the wall smelling like a teenaged boys locker room what could you tell me that'll change my view of you?" 

"It doesn't matter. You're not going. I'm not leaving."

"Yes I am! I am going out with Malcolm and Greta." 

"No you're not." Brahms' voice took on a dangerous edge. Adora was very close to making him angry but she was pissed off too, he wasn't being fair.

"Yes I am." Defiantly staring at him in the eyes, Adora waited to see what he would do.

Brahms abruptly stood up and threw her onto the couch, quickly pinning her down with his body weight. He grabbed her wrists and held them up by her head. Adora tried to ignore the fact that she could feel how hard he was between her legs. Leave the poor wall man alone, even if they weren't in the middle of an argument it would hardly be appropriate to thirst after him. 

… jesus did he even know what sex was? Adora highly doubted that his parents took the time to give him sex ed 101. 

"Why won't you love me? Why can't you just be happy with me?" 

"I do love you, even when you're being a fucking asshole." His eyes seemed to darken at her words, going cold. He brought his hand back slightly and Adora bared her teeth. "You gonna hit me? Do it. I fucking dare you. The one thing you could do to make me leave. See what happens Brahms." 

Adora could see the hurt and regret in his eyes and it cooled her off a little bit but she wasn't going to back down. He needed to know she wasn't going to let him bully her. 

"Fine." He said, getting off of her. "Leave. I don’t want you. I don't need you." 

Ignoring her when she said his name he left the room. Adora got up to follow him but by the time she got to the hallway he was already gone.

~

It took two seconds of being in the bar for Adora to realize she had made a mistake. There were only a couple of other people sitting at the bar but their eyes felt like snakes slithering up her spine as she walked to a table behind Malcolm and Greta. She never liked bars, she didn't like drinking. She barely liked going outside and her and Brahms had a big fight over something dumb like this.

Brahms had ignored her the entire five hours since their fight and she felt the guilt sitting in the pit of her stomach like a rock. She was so patient with him every other time why hadn't she just been patient earlier this afternoon? Calling him names and shit instead of trying to figure out why he was so scared of the rules, so sure she would leave. She felt like an asshole. 

But he was being a dick too. 

Adora knew she couldn't just let him get his way whenever he threw a fit. It wasn't good for their friendship for her to just roll over whenever he got a little grumpy. 

Probably wasn't good for their friendship that she kept thinking about him on top of her either. 

"Adora, what are you having?" Malcolm asked. He took his coat off and set it on the back of his chair.

"Something with orange juice?"

"I'm beginning to think you're not actually an adult. 'Something with orange juice' she says. I hope we don't get carded." 

Greta laughed when Adora stuck her tongue out at Malcolm's back. Both women watched him walk to the bar, though Adora moved her gaze to Greta soon after. 

Greta was beautiful. Tall, with silky hair and a ready smile Adora didn't blame Malcolm for his heart eyes. And with the way Greta was gazing after him now with a cute little happy smile on her face it seemed that he wasn't the only one. 

"Soooo." Adora said. Greta turned to her and was suddenly interested in staring at anything except for Malcolm. "Malcolm huh?" 

"Oh no, no we're just. We're just friends." 

Adora sighed, her cheek resting on her hand. "I know how that goes." She mumbled. 

Malcolm came back with their drinks and half an hour later they were all laughing at a story Malcolm was telling about his younger brother. Greta kept looking at something behind Adora but when Adora was about to turn around the other woman grabbed her hand. 

"Sorry, there's a man behind you at the bar that keeps looking over here." 

Malcolm followed her gaze, seemingly unconcerned. "That's just Mr. Dalley. His son runs the tailors." Adora turned around when Malcolm waved to see a middle aged man pick up his beer and walk their way. 

"You're the nanny then?" He asked as soon as he sat down. Adora nodded, sipping her drink. It didn't really surprise her that the Heelshire's business was a gossip topic. 

"You seen the ghost yet?" The older man said gruffly. Malcolm groaned, setting his hand against his forehead. 

"Ghost?" Adora asked. 

"The Heelshire's been looking for a nanny for over a year now. Every reject came back into town with stories about that house." 

"I haven't seen anything." Except for the man that lived in the walls, Adora thought to herself.

"There's a ghost?" Greta asked. 

The old man nodded. "Everyone in town knows about the kids who died up at the Heelshire estate. Drove that old couple insane the way I heard it." 

"Kids?" Plural? 

"Brahms Heelshire and that little girl he killed, Emily Cribbs."

"They don't know that Brahms killed her." Malcolm argued. 

"You think someone else smashed her head in? Always knew something was wrong with that kid." Malcolm winced, looking at Adora in apology. 

Downing her drink Adora slid her glass over to the center of the table. This conversation was going to take a whole lot more alcohol. 

***

Brahms was furious. She left him. She actually left him. 

Adora was supposed to feel so bad she wouldn't leave him. Why had she left? How could she have left him like that? Scowling at the plate as it went around and around in the microwave Brahms was glad she at least made him dinner. 

Why couldn't she see he was trying to protect her? Brahms was trying to keep her happy. Happy here at home with him. If she knew what had happened she would be scared of him just like mum and dad. Adora wouldn't love him anymore. 

His little monster was such a brat. 

When she got back he was taking all of her shoes. Watch her leave without any shoes. 

How much longer was she going to be gone? It had already been three hours. She was going to be mad that he threw her clothes all over her room but he didn't care. It's what she deserved for leaving him alone like that. Breaking the rules. Honestly, she really was a little monster. 

The sound of a car pulling up made him scramble to turn the microwave off and dart through the wall panel. He made it just in time, the front door opening and laughter echoing through the house. Brahms peeked out of the peephole in the wall and saw Malcolm and a woman helping Adora up the stairs. Adora and the woman were laughing about something and Malcolm was trying to keep them all from falling over. 

"I thought Americans could hold their liquor." Malcolm said, sending the girls into another giggle fit. 

Brahms followed them up to Adora's room. The other woman, who had to be the Greta Malcolm and Adora often talked about, gave a small 'whoa' when they turned on the light to see the mess of Adora's room. Helping the still giggling Adora into the bed they said goodbye and left. Brahms followed them out, locking the door when he couldn't see their car down the driveway anymore. 

Back upstairs Brahms sighed. One arm was thrown over her face, her glasses askew on top of her head. Taking them off for her he set them on the nightstand. He took off her shoes too, cute little heels with bows at the ankles. Even though he was mad at her he was really glad she was home safe with him. 

"Brahms?" Adora moved her arm above her head. Brahms thought she was beautiful like that, hair wild on the pillow looking up at him with a small smile. Pretty little monster. 

"Little Dora." Brahms helped her sit up, sitting down next to her when she pulled on his sweater. 

"Brahmsyyyyy." She leaned on him, her face smushed against his arm. Drunk Adora was adorably silly. It was hard to stay mad at her.

"It's bedtime, Adora." 

"I wanna wear your sweater." Adora said. She was tugging at the hem of his sweater, her hands softly skimming the bare skin of his stomach. 

"Adora, I'm wearing my sweater." 

"Yeah but I wanna wear it. Pleeeeease?" Subconsciously he rubbed the skin on his right side. He didn't want her to see… 

"You're thinking about your scars aren't you? Your eyes always get sad when you do. But look see." Adora grabbed the end of her dress and pulled it over her head, sitting in her underwear next to him. Brahms' eyes went wide. "I have scars too." 

As embarrassed as he was he had to admit she was right. He had been so distracted every other time he'd seen her without clothes that he had never noticed the thick lines that were usually hidden. Just under her breasts a line curved from the right side of her ribs to her left, intersected by another that went from between her breasts down to just above the jewel in her bellybutton. Her shoulder had a four inch line that must have been barely hidden by some of her sweaters. Unaware of how rough he was being Brahms moved her so he could see her back. Black words on her left shoulder were cut in half by another thick scar, this one reaching down to connect with one that spanned the length of her spine. They were still raised and pink, not like Brahms'. His scars have had plenty of time to turn silvery and to have smoothed out slightly. Where the hell had she gotten these?

"Adora, where did these come from?" 

"Give me your sweater and I'll tell you." 

Rude little thing. 

Being careful not to dislodge his mask Brahms took off the old blue sweater he was wearing and gave it to her. It had a tear in one sleeve and the collar was stretched out but as Adora slipped it over her head Brahms decided it was his favorite sweater when she wore it. 

Adora crawled into his lap and Brahms wrapped his arms around her so she wouldn't fall. Brahms traced the scar on her spine, shivering when Adora's mouth brushed his ear. 

"Brahms needs bedtime kisses. It's part of the rules." She resumed peppering the side of his face with kisses. Brahms couldn't help but laugh quietly. Picking her up he moved the blankets on the bed back and laid down, making sure they were both covered. 

He could be cross with her tomorrow when they woke up. For now Brahms was more than happy to have her falling asleep against his chest, still pressing sleepy kisses to his skin. Adora's soft hands trailed along his scarred arm and shoulder, not seeming to care that it felt different from the rest of his skin. 

Brahms loved the feeling of her skin against his. Her head resting on his chest, her breathing evened out when she fell asleep. Brahms trailed his fingers up under his sweater she wore, following the thick lines on her skin. Tomorrow they had a lot to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm allliiiiive. c:


	8. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets secrets are no fun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty heavy chapter. Gonna put a tw in for... child abuse? Mentions of child abuse...uh. Also murder.

There were flowers raining from the sky. The thick white clouds turned the pink and orange dawn into a mesmerizing swirl of pastel colors. The grass beneath his feet felt damp with dew and when he reached out for the tall flowers surrounding him all the petals seemed to stretch towards his finger tips, waiting to be touched. The velvet feeling of their petals tingled as he ran his fingers over the closest blooms. In the back of his head he knew he had to be dreaming, Brahms wasn’t allowed outside. A deep breath in, a slow exhale of the air. It was calm, there was no anxiety about the fact he could get caught outside. 

Fingers ghosted over the bare skin of his shoulder, across the deep scar tissue that marred his skin. Brahms spun around to catch the culprit but he was all alone in the field of wildflowers. What was he missing? The ache in his chest wasn’t a foreign sensation to him, Brahms was well aware what the empty, crushing vacancy meant. Someone took her away from him once and he nearly went mad from the feeling. Loneliness. Where was she? Who took her away from him again? Why would she break her promise to never leave him? 

Calling her name out into the empty air his voice echoed back to him. Angry grey clouds rolled overhead, blocking out the sun and the warmth that came with it. His breath came out in visible puffs, the temperature dropping fast. The birds that had been chirping moments ago were quiet now; drowned out so completely by the wailing fog that had come in just as quickly as the clouds. Brahms watched the flowers around him start to shrivel up and die as the frost crept up their stems. 

It was cold. It was getting dark, and once again he was all alone. 

“Brahms.” The whisper of his name came at him from all directions, the wind swirling the sound around him like it wanted to make sure he heard it. 

Whipping around his breath coming out in a harsh whoosh of air at the sight before him. “Adora?” He tried to speak but his voice got caught in his throat. Wearing a white lace gown it was impossible to miss the amount of red staining the fabric. Large slashes carved into her skin were seen through the cuts in her dress, the blood still dripping from the lacerations added to the growing red stain trying to take over the white fabric. Her usual dark eye makeup was running down her cheeks following the tear tracks down to her chin and her red lipstick was smudged at one corner of her mouth. Holding out her hands to him he noticed that she was holding something. Something that made his blood freeze in his veins, his heart pounding against the ice that now held it captive.

Adora held a rock. Nothing too big, only slightly larger than a baseball. It was shaped like an awkward oval and there were probably a million and a half other rocks that looked just like it but Brahms would never forget what that specific rock felt like to hold in his small eight year old hands. He’d never forget it’s weight, or the sharp bump that had cut open his palm. Brahms would never forget the sound it made being struck against… Adora stepped closer to him, showing him the blood that looked fresh on the grey stone. The rock shuddered in her hands for a moment before starting to beat like a heart, pumping blood over her fingers to drip onto the frozen flowers. His eyes darted to her face, taking in the way her blue eyes dulled and faded until they were cloudy and unseeing. 

When he looked at the stone again it actually was a heart. Brahms took a step away from her, his body at war with his mind. Every fiber of his being wanted to back away, wanted to continue to pretend his past didn't haunt him still. He wanted to pretend everything was fine with Adora, that there was no way she would run from him when she found out the truth about what happened all those years ago. But Brahms' head was screaming at him to help her, to go to her in case she fell. To throw away the heart in her hand and to make sure she wasn't really dying. Adora couldn't leave him like this, no she absolutely wasn't allowed.

She was going to leave him wasn't she? Falling to his knees in the dead grass he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled at his hair with both hands. He wouldn't let her. He wouldn't let her leave. Even if he had to lock her in her room and bring her food himself he would. Brahms had been paying careful attention to how she cooked things the last couple of days and he was sure he could manage to do it without burning the house down. Keeping her with him where she would be safe from whatever gave her those scars and other people telling her about his past and trying to steal her away from him. It was the only way. It was the only way she wouldn't leave. The cold air surrounding them hurt his lungs as he tried to get a full breath. 

Adora would hate him but she would be with him and safe. She would be his, forever, safe. 

"Brahms?" Her voice was just a whisper. 

He didn't want to look at the animated corpse of his little monster. 

"Brahms?" She was getting closer, he squeezed his eyes tighter.

It wasn't her. It wasn't her. 

Warm hands touched his shoulder and Brahms lunged blindly, grabbing the wrists of the phantom in front of him and pushing her to the floor with her wrists above her head. He would not allow this phantom to terrorize him while it wore the face of-

"Well good morning to you too." 

Snapping his eyes open Brahms was surprised to find Adora below him. Not corpse Adora, but his little Dora. Her cheeks were rosy and her blue eyes looked up at him with sleepy affection and a touch of concern. They weren't in a field of dead flowers but laying in her warm bed, his body between her legs and squishing her slightly, their faces nearly touching. 

“Were you having a bad dream?” Brahms collapsed on top of her, his body giving out from sheer relief. Nuzzling his face into her neck he moved his arms under her shoulders to hug her to him. Adora's fingers gently thread through his hair, one of her hands trailing down to the back of his neck leaving a trail of pleasure induced tingles in her wake. 

He wanted to forget the nightmare. Being embraced by her like this, feeling her soft bare skin against his with her gentle touches roaming his back… Brahms never wanted to be without this again. He'd gone for so long without being touched by another person that his craving for her touch was balancing on the brink of insanity. How could she possibly expect him to let her leave again after a night of holding her? How could he tell her the truth if it meant being deprived of this touch, this feeling of warmth and love that followed being in her arms. Would she hold him like this if she knew of the blood on his hands? 

Adora was his to love, his to protect. Idly running a finger over one of the scars on her back Brahms knew there were things out in the world that she needed to be protected from. He wasn't blind to the irony of wanting to keep her safe while he had blood on his hands. The image of Adora holding the beating heart from his dream flashed through his mind and he shuddered. Indecision and guilt warred with each other in his mind but there was one thing he was absolutely certain of. Brahms was never going to let Adora go. 

"Brahms?" With his face pressed into her neck he could feel her sweet voice against his mask. "Are you okay?" 

Adora was his to love. Adora was his to protect. 

***

Adora woke to the taste of oranges and death heavy on her tongue. While she knew she had been drinking last night she had to ask herself if at some point she had chugged a bottle of orange scented cleaning spray, because that's exactly what her mouth tasted like. Alcohol was the devil's drink, she was never getting drunk again. Disgusting. 

And now Brahms was squishing her, which wasn’t helping her bladder situation at all. 

“Brahms, you’re gonna have to move. I need to get up.” Whatever he said in response was muffled not only by his mask but now from his face being pressed into her neck. The low vibrations from the porcelain tickled but she was more focused on not peeing the bed. “I need to p-waah!” Adora squealed when Brahms rolled over, taking her with him. 

Sitting up she was now straddling his hips and she could appreciate his shirtless chest and arms. The scar tissue she’d noticed on the back of his right hand extended all the way up his forearm and bicep, spreading halfway across his collarbone and down most of his pectoral muscle. The scarring was thickest on his forearm and his hip where more scar tissue was extending up from his pants to his lower ribs. The skin on his chest that wasn’t scarred was covered in dark hair that led her eyes on a journey that her hand followed lightly, coming to a stop at the button of his pants right between her legs. Brahms let out a hum, his grip on her waist sliding down to her thighs. 

Behind his mask his eyes were closed and Adora wished she could see the smile that was heard as he asked, “I thought you were getting up?” 

God damnit she still had to pee. 

Nearly flinging herself off of him Adora rolled off the bed, grabbing her glasses from the nightstand as she left the room. Her brain was so stuck on having him between her thighs when she woke up that it wasn’t until she began washing her hands on her way out of the bathroom that she realized the reason Brahms was shirtless was because she was wearing his sweater. Most of her memories from last night were just a blur of giggles and orange juice so that was pretty unhelpful. 

While brushing her teeth she tried to figure out a way to talk to Brahms about the part of the night she did remember. What happened all those years ago with Emily Cribbs? The evidence the police found was pretty damning, but why? And what happened after? How was she supposed to get Brahms to answer her questions without running away like he usually did? Aftering finishing in the bathroom Adora walked back to her room with determination. One way or another she needed to get answers for these questions. 

Brahms was nearly in the same position as before, though now his arms were under his head. Adora climbed up and sat next to him close enough that her thigh was pressed against his side. Reaching out she set one of her hands on his stomach, smiling softly when he moved one of his own hands to rest on hers. She hated that she was about to ruin his morning. 

“Brahms?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, lacing their fingers together on his stomach. 

“Brahms… will you tell me what happened to Emily Cribbs?” 

His reaction was immediate, whole body tensing, her hand was squished in his when he squeezed hard. Ever so slowly he turned his gaze from the ceiling towards her. Adora tried very hard not to make herself go as tense as he did, instead trying to let her body language tell him that she wasn’t mad. That she wasn’t going to leave. 

“Emily?” His voice was hoarse, the name was said with so many emotions it was hard to sort through them all. Remorse. Guilt. Rage. “Who told you about Emily?” 

“It doesn’t matter, I want-”

“It does matter!” Brahms yelled suddenly. Adora jumped at his volume and then screamed when he lunged at her, pinning her under him once more he was breathing heavily through his mask and for the first time in her life she felt a small trill of fear run down her spine like ice. Brahms was easily over a foot taller than her and nearly twice as wide, he could break her just as easily as Bane broke Batman. “Who told you? They’re trying to take you away from me. I knew it. You can’t leave Adora, I’ll never let you leave.” 

Adora tried to remain calm, she tried to tell herself that Brahms would never really hurt her. But all she could see was her mom begging her father to stop hurting her as he raised his fists over and over again until she was quiet. Adora had watched the life drain out of her mother’s eyes, eyes that were the same shade of blue as her own. Over and over she told herself growing up she would never love someone who hurt her, because even at the end Adora knew her mother loved her father. She could never figure out why her mother, who danced in the sunshine and only wore yellow sundresses, loved a monster who beat them both. But maybe that was just their curse. To love monsters. 

Something touched her chest and shook her out of the waking nightmare that came with thinking of her mother’s death. Coming back to herself she found Brahms still on top of her, though whatever rage he had been feeling seemed to have worn itself out. His head pressed to her chest and his grip on her wrists still tight, he was sobbing. Deep, heart wrenching sobs shook his frame above her as he kept repeating how sorry he was. 

“I’ll never hurt you, Dora.” He whispered, breathing muffled by his mask. “You can’t ever leave but I’ll never hurt you, I promise I would never hurt you.” Pulling her wrists from his grip Adora held on to him as he cried.

“Brahms, did you hurt Emily?” She asked after a while. Her voice was a soft whisper in the quiet of the room. The sun peaking through the curtains bathed the room in the soft yellow glow of morning that was such a stark contrast to the tension of the question. 

“I can’t tell you.” Brahms' voice was so blank, void of any of the emotions she could usually hear in his words. 

“Why?” 

“If I tell you, you’ll leave. I’ll never let you leave me. You can’t.” There was a bite to the end of his words, as if going in circles like this was pissing him off again. 

“Brahms…" 

“I’m a monster. I’ve paid for my sins, I’ve paid in blood and loneliness. All I have ever done is hurt people and I'll hurt you. I will. If you try to leave I'll hurt you. You're mine, you can't leave." Brahms didn't move from his position on top of her. Even though his weight was kind of squishing her, she kept running her hands through his hair and over what she could reach of his shoulders. 

"Did you kill Emily?" The question hung in the air for so long Adora wondered if he was going to answer or not. 

Brahms moved his head to look at her face giving her a clear view of his pretty green eyes. Flecks of brown and gold were found in the mossy forest green, the white of his right eye red from the damage done so many years ago. "Yes." He said. 

It wasn't any different than what she had been told last night but hearing it from him didn't clear any of the questions swirling in her head. When they were children Adora spent months with Brahms and never once did he ever do anything like hurting another person. What had driven the sweet little boy she knew to kill their friend? Because they were all friends. Emily didn't cease to exist to Adora once she became friends with Brahms. They all played together, the two girls often running through the flowers and the dirt while Brahms read close to them. One time Brahms and Adora had convinced Emily to run through large puddles with them and all three children had received a harsh scalding from Mrs. Heelshire for tracking water through the kitchen. 

"Why?" She asked. 

"Promise me you won't leave." Brahms said. Without breaking eye contact she nodded, whispering her promise as she mimed crossing her heart. 

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes again before speaking. "Emily was mad at me after you left. She ignored me when her parents came to visit, and really I didn't mind it at first. I didn't want to be around anyone. I thought she would just be sad like I was, or even angry that my parents couldn't stop the policeman from taking you away. But on my birthday she followed me into the woods and she said she blamed me. Said it was my fault you were gone, my fault. I told her to stop but she kept going, it was my fault because nobody wanted to be friends with me, it was my fault because I was weird. I started to get mad and I yelled at her to stop but she- she said…" Trailing off into silence Adora was about to ask if he was okay but he opened his eyes and stared at her again. "Do you remember that day in the rain by the tree? When you asked me what a kiss was for?" 

Flushing red immediately she nodded even though she wasn't really sure how that was connected to what they were talking about. They had been reading outside when the sky opened up and started pouring rain down on them. The two children stood under a tree watching the rain come down in peace, knowing anytime soon Mrs. Heelshire was going to call for them to come inside. Adora remembered asking because when she asked her mom the same question her mom answered 'a kiss is like a promise, everytime you kiss someone you love it's a little promise of your love. So you should only kiss people you love very much.' In her mind Adora didn't really understand why her mother would waste her kisses on her father, since he obviously didn't love them but she knew she loved Brahms. She loved him more than her father loved her mother, so she should promise him she would always love him right? 

"I just thought kisses were what adults did after they got married but you were so adamant about kisses being promises of love. You said if I wanted you would give me that promise. And you did. You promised you would always love me." Raising one of his hands from where they lay underneath her shoulders he brushed her hair away from her face. "Emily said she saw me kiss you. And that's why you never came back. Because I was a gross boy and you'd never love me. I was absolutely furious. So I pushed her. And she shoved me back and I went to push her again and we fell down and I. I grabbed a rock. And I was so mad I just kept hitting her and kept hitting her. I don't think I was really aware of what I was doing even after I was done. I was covered in blood and I cut open my own hand on the rock but I couldn't feel it. I don't remember walking back home. But I remember I found mum in the kitchen, and she screamed when she saw me." 

Adora felt slightly sick from the story. There were so many emotions she felt from hearing the truth. But she knew the story wasn't over yet. "What happened after that?" 

"She dragged me upstairs to a bathroom and told my father that I came back without Emily, that she might be lost. He went with them to look for her while mum cleaned me up. She took me to one of the guest rooms and told me to go to sleep. I asked her why I couldn't just sleep in my room and she told me that I needed to hide because what I did was bad, I was going to be in so much trouble for hurting Emily. I don't know how long they were out there but I fell asleep. When I woke up the bed was on fire." 

"What?" Adora gasped. Brahms spoke with a calm detachment that worried her. 

"I tried to get out but the door was locked. She said it was for my own good. The fire spread across the room and I tried to-" Voice breaking slightly he cleared his throat. "I tried to shield my face with my arm, but I was already burned from the bed. Father was yelling on the other side of the door, trying to get mother to open it but she wouldn't. It hurt. Sometimes I wonder if I died in that room." Setting his head on her chest he grew quiet again. 

Listening to him tell the story for a moment Adora forgot that this happened twenty years ago. And then she got… really fucking pissed off. He was eight years old! His mother set him on fire what the fuck. 

"How did you survive?" 

"Father." 

"He got the door open?" 

"No, there's an opening to the walls in that room he knew about. He came in with a blanket, carried me through the house to a room hidden in the walls and left." 

"That's so fucked up." She said.

Brahms looked at her in surprise. "He saved my life. They took care of me." 

"Brahms, your mom set you on fire and made you live in the walls!" Brahms got up from the bed and Adora followed, standing next to him. 

"I needed to be punished for what I did. They protected me. I would have been taken away." 

"You were eight! You were eight years old, they don't throw eight year olds in prison. You would have gone some place to get help. Setting you on fire is literally the fucking opposite of helping!" 

Placing his hands on her shoulders he backed her up against the bed and she went willingly, sitting down as he backed away from her. Adora knew arguing with him about his parents and their fucked up rules usually ended badly but she didn't know how to even start the process of getting him to understand that while yeah maybe he should have been held accountable for what happened to Emily, that didn't mean he deserved being set on fire by his mother. And really what the fuck did she know? Adora had no idea what happened to children in this situation but for fucks sake. 

"I'm a monster and I got what I deserved." 

Putting her hands together and pressing her thumbs against her lips she breathed deeply through her nose. It kind of clicked right then, Adora realized she had been wrong earlier. 

Brahms wasn’t a monster. 

And she was wrong to have ever compared him to her father. 

Brahms was eight years old when he killed Emily. He was just a kid, a kid who was constantly ridiculed by his parents, other children and their parents. A kid who was never shown love, who watched the only people who ever gave him any sort of kindness get ripped away from him. That right there is enough to fuck a kid up for life but after that? He killed his only other friend. In a fit of rage, having held it in for so long. And instead of getting him the help he obviously needed his parents tried to kill him and shoved him aside like a dirty secret for twenty years. 

This man was going to give her grey hair before she was thirty. 

"Did you want to kill Emily?" 

Eyes going wide he looked at her in shock. "What?" 

"Did you want to? Did you lure her into the woods with the sole intent to kill her? Were you happy she died? Happy you killed her? Would you do it again?" 

"No- I just. I just wanted her to stop. I wanted to hurt her so she would stop but I didn't. I don't think I meant to." He sat down on the bed next to her and she stood up, switching their positions. 

"Then why are you a monster?" Adora asked.

"I killed her. I killed her, and I was punished for it." 

Kneeling down Adora placed her arms on his knees and looked him in the eyes before taking a deep breath. Brahms had a very long road to any sort of recovery from what had happened to him. But she was going to be there for him every step of the way. "I don't think you're a monster. And I'm not leaving you. Ever. I'm sad that you hurt Emily. I think it's something that's going to stick with you for a long time, and it should. Because hurting someone like that, killing another person isn't something to be taken lightly or forgotten. But I don't think you deserved what happened to you after." 

Brahms reached down and scooped her up, wrapping his arms around her middle and burying his face into the sweater she wore. She wasn't sure exactly when she started crying but her cheeks were cold and damp from her tears. He rocked them back and forth, Adora traced the scarred skin of his shoulder in an effort to sooth him. 

"You won't leave?" He asked, breaking the long silence.

"Never." 

Brahms lifted her up and moved them back further onto the bed, laying on their sides in a tight hug. Adora shivered when one of his hands traveled up her side under the sweater. His fingers trailed over the lines cut into her skin and she remembered a drunken promise to tell him about them. Fuck. 

"Adora, where did these come from?" 

Again. Fuck. 

It would be kind of fucked up if she made him spill his secrets and then lied about her own. And she trusted him. Brahms would never hurt her. She knew that. But Adora had her own trauma, and her scars were barely a year old. 

"I guess you're not the only monster here, Brahms."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild update appears. Uh. I apologize for the cliffhanger... lmao. Sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna follow me on tumblr? ThanatosBanshee. If you leave a comment and a kudos I will be eternally grateful. I love every single one of my readers, thank you so much for reading!


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